Mauney’s blue eyes opened wide with surprise. He saw such child-like simplicity in her face that he smiled with admiration. He knew, just then, that he could have surrounded her shoulders with both his arms.
“Thanks,” he said. “You’ve got me trimmed a mile for brains. That’s the whole trouble.”
“How do you mean?”
“Brains! You seem to have more of them than I have.”
She frowned and glanced at his mouth.
“Well, does one usually say that, even if one thinks so?”
“I don’t know,” he answered seriously. “I said it because it’s so, and because it’s just your brains that keep you from treating me humanly.”
“Oh—you mean chewing the rag?”
“Sure. You see, I don’t know how to act with you. We’re always together and I think it would be better to be a little more informal.”
She placed the end of her fountain pen against her lips, pensively.