“You stop where you are, Mr. Johnson.”
“Ugh!” came from Wowkle, at that moment closing the door which Johnson had left ajar.
At the sound of the woman’s voice Johnson wheeled round quickly. And then, to his great surprise, he saw that the Girl was not alone as he had expected to find her.
“I beg your pardon; I did not see anyone when I came in,” he said in humble apology, his eyes the while upon Wowkle who, having blown out the candle and removed the lantern from the table to the floor, was directing her footsteps towards the cupboard, into which she presently disappeared, closing the door behind her. “But seeing you standing there,” went on Johnson in explanation, “and looking into your lovely eyes, well, the temptation to take you in my arms was so great that I, well, I took—”
“You must be in the habit o’ takin’ things, Mr. Johnson,” broke in the Girl. “I seen you on the road to Monterey, goin’ an’ comin’, an’ passed a few words with you; I seen you once since, but that don’t give you no excuse to begin this sort o’ game.” The Girl’s tone was one of reproach rather than of annoyance, and for the moment the young man was left with a sense of having committed an indiscretion. Silently, sheepishly, he moved away, while she quietly went over to the fire.
“Besides, you might have prospected a bit first anyway,” presently she went on, watching the tips of her slender white fingers held out transparent towards the fire.
Just at that moment a log dropped, turning up its glowing underside. Wheeling round with a smile, Johnson said:
“I see how wrong I was.”
And then, seeing that the Girl made no move in his direction, he asked, still smiling:
“May I take off my coat?”