"I wasn't thinking of touching you, Linda. I just wanted to fix your hair. Something has fallen down here; just wait, I see a hairpin."
The girl preserved her pose under the caressing hands for a second, but he fumbled the soft lock, and she suspected him.
"That will do," she said, jerking her head away.
"Oh, well, I fixed it. You might thank me, going out as you are."
"I should think Fred had fallen dead!" she exclaimed.
"Yes; Maud prescribes Maine for me. She knows the lay of the land pretty well up there. She says she has known it for thirty years. I think that's an exaggeration, don't you?"
"I don't know how old she is, and I don't care; I only know that it must have nearly killed her husband to die and leave her."
King rocked back and forth on his toes. "I've heard that it did, entirely," he responded.
Linda gave her head a quick shake. "No wonder I say idiotic things!" she exclaimed. "It's catching!—Fred! Fred!" The sudden call was a cry of relief, and the girl quickly stepped out of an open glass door upon the piazza, and hurried down the steps. A motor had stopped beside the walk. King caught up his hat and followed her.
"I thought you'd never come!" cried Linda, to the joy of the distracted chauffeur.