“Paw USED, and I do NOW, sense I've come into the room.” She pointed to a nondescript garment, half cloak, half habit, hanging on the wall. “I've been outer bed and on Pitchpine's back as far ez the trail five minutes arter I heard the first bellow.”
Hale regarded her with undisguised astonishment. There was nothing at all Amazonian or horsey in her manners, nor was there even the robust physical contour that might have been developed through such experiences. On the contrary, she seemed to be lazily effeminate in body and mind. Heedless of his critical survey of her, she beckoned him to draw his chair nearer, and, looking into his eyes, said—
“Whatever possessed YOU to take to huntin' men?”
Hale was staggered by the question, but nevertheless endeavored to explain. But he was surprised to find that his explanation appeared stilted even to himself, and, he could not doubt, was utterly incomprehensible to the girl. She nodded her head, however, and continued—
“Then you haven't anythin' agin' George?”
“I don't know George,” said Hale, smiling. “My proceeding was against the highwayman.”
“Well, HE was the highwayman.”
“I mean, it was the principle I objected to—a principle that I consider highly dangerous.”
“Well HE is the principal, for the others only HELPED, I reckon,” said Zeenie with a sigh, “and I reckon he IS dangerous.”
Hale saw it was useless to explain. The girl continued—