His mouth tightened a little.
“I would,” he coolly informed her, “but I told Uncle Eb I’d come back.”
“Oh. Then I’ll wait. Go ’long.”
Again he stared. As before, she met him eye to eye, cold and uncompromising.
“What’s wrong, Marion?” he repeated. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you? I should think you might, if you’d think back a little ways. Now I don’t want to walk with you.”
His chin lifted. “Oh. I see. It’s Steve. All right. But if he’s still at Uncle Eb’s I’ll tell him you’re coming. I won’t be there long.”
She started.
“No—what—how’d you know he’s—what you got to do with Steve?”
“Ask Steve. He’ll tell you all about it. Good-day.”