"Yes, me, by all means—that I'm not the other girl," said Miss Saucy. "We've been having the awfullest quarrel! I never guessed Mr. Kindred had such a temper: he always struck me as one of the sweet-milk division. Like the Zulu's dog, you know, that eat up all the missionary's Bible and could never fight any—more."
"Naturally," said Magnus.
"Well, the dog didn't die—if that's what you mean," said Miss Saucy. "Only his popularity."
"What do you know about missionaries?" said Short, with a laugh. "That's a story made to order."
"It isn't! I guess I can hear things; I've got ears."
"Two pink shells," Mr. Short suggested. Miss Saucy made him a sweeping courtesy.
"Positively, the first decent word I've had said to me this morning. Mr. Kindred has been simply savage. But, do you know, Nina," she went on, half aside, "I think he believes it suits his style. Very fetching, don't you know. Why his eyes just glowed! If I wasn't so awfully afraid of him, I vow I'd make him angry every day."
"Nothing left for you two, that I see, but coffee and pistols," said Short. "I suppose you can shoot, Miss Saucy?"
"I suppose I can't."