Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from base.
"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered helplessly.
"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully, "I have heard so much about you and your awfully romantic life. I just want to know all about it."
As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking with the best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank, gasping and helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against the wall, with the insistent voice of his captor droning in his ears.
She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly started the pendulum.
"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a dear place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now. All my men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers I had to keep
them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love men. How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?"
He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager pursuit of a red rose that flashed in and out among the dancers.
"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were just a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and all of them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour through the States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic for any use. I love adventure. My two best friends are at the theological seminary. One's going to India,—he's a blond,—and one to Africa. Just between us, I am going with one of them, but I can't for the life of me make up my mind which. I don't know why I am telling you all these things, Mr. Kilday, except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You understand, don't you?"
He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was necessary, for he did not