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Updated: June 4, 2025
"The wind blew so," explained Miss Satterly, lamely. "And that lock " "First I knew of the wind blowing yesterday. It was as hot as the hubs uh he as blue blazes when I came by. There weren't any windows up, even I hope you was real comfortable." "Perfectly," she assured him. "I'll gamble yuh were! Well, and where were yuh cached last Sunday?" "Nowhere.
The schoolma'am refused to stop, or to turn her head a fraction of an inch, and Weary's face sobered a little. It was the first time that inimitable "Tee-e-cher" of his had failed to bring the smile back into the eyes of Miss Satterly. He looked after her dubiously. Her shoulders were thrown well back and her feet pressed their imprint firmly into the yellow dust of the trail.
But there is something so sympathetic in your very atmosphere and seeing him so unexpectedly brought it all back and it seemed as if I must talk to someone, or I should shriek." "Well," said Miss Satterly rather unsympathetically, "and how did he leave, then?" Miss Forsyth twisted her watch chain and hesitated. "I really ought not to say a word if you really don't know what he did "
Evidently she was still shocked and grieved. Weary tipped his head to one side so that be might look up at her from under his hat-brim. "I'll get yuh another gopher; six, if yuh say so," he soothed, "The woods is full of 'em." The angry, brown eyes of Miss Satterly swept the barren hills contemptuously. She would not even look at him. "Pray do not inconvenience yourself, Mr. Davidson.
"Every night and all day Sundays," Weary drawled. Miss Satterly frowned him into good behavior and said twice a week would do. Happy Jack slipped out and went home feeling like a reprieved criminal; he even tried to argue himself into the belief that Weary was only loading him and didn't mean a word he said.
You just go ahead and make a bosom friend uh Myrt Forsyth, Schoolma'am, and believe every blamed lie she tells yuh. I won't be here to argue the point. Looks to me like I'm about due to drift." Miss Satterly, dumb with fear of what his words might mean, sat stiffly while Weary got up and mounted Glory in a business like manner that was extremely disquieting.
But you see, at dances one doesn't think of the men as individuals; they're just good or bad partners. It resolves itself, you see, into a question of feet. If I should dance with you again, did I dance with you?" Weary shot a quick, eloquent glance in her direction. He did not say anything. Miss Satterly blushed.
The Little Doctor threatened to sketch them herself, drawing on her imagination and what little she knew of Indians, but something in his eyes stayed her hand. She left the easel in disgust and refused to touch it again for a week. She was to spend a long day with Miss Satterly, the schoolma'am, and started off soon after breakfast one morning.
Try admiration and felicitation and exhilarating, ecstatic osculation " He stopped to run the edge of paper along his tongue, and perhaps it was as well he did; there was no need of making her any angrier. Miss Satterly hated to feel that she was worsted, and it was quite clear that Weary had all along been "guying" her.
Are you but of course you must be acquainted with him, living in the same neighborhood?" Her inflection made a question of the declaration. "Certainly I am acquainted with Mr. Davidson," said Miss Satterly with just the right shade of indifference. "He does dance very well, though there are others I like better." That, of course, was a prevarication. "You knew him before tonight?"
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