He laughed and looked expectantly at the girl. Her expression was unchanged. Jeb again devoted himself to his driving.
"No, I didn't let on," he presently resumed. "Fact is, I wan't sure myself till I seed you at the winder." He smiled flirtatiously at her. "Then I decided to go ahead. I dunno, but I somehow kinder allow you and me'll hit it off purty well—don't you?"
Susan tried to speak. She found that she could not—that she had nothing to say.
"You're the kind of a girl I always had my mind set on," pursued Jeb, who was an expert love-maker. "I like a smooth skin and pouty lips that looks as if they wanted to be kissed." He took the reins in one hand, put his arm round her, clumsily found her lips with his. She shrank slightly, then submitted. But Jeb somehow felt no inclination to kiss her again. After a moment he let his arm drop away from her waist and took the reins in both hands with an elaborate pretense that the bad road compelled it.
A long silence, then he tried again: "It's cool and nice under these here trees, ain't it?"
"Yes," she said.
"I ain't saw you out here for several years now. How long has it been?"
"Three summers ago."
"You must 'a' growed some. I don't seem to recollect you. You like the country?"
"Yes."