“A’right. Ef you needs me, jes’ ax fer Skeeter Butts. I’s got a good name ’mongst de white and de blacks.”
Miss Juan Chieniere sat upon the wide, white portico and watched, as the white man dismounted from the machine. She watched until Skeeter had turned and started back the way he had come. She watched the young man turn and enter the gate. All of this with indifference, which suddenly turned to an interest, which left her gasping with delight.
“Oh—Jim!”
The Frenchwoman makes the most fascinating sweetheart and the most attractive wife in the world, to all except a blind man. To all the other things which the Frenchwoman possesses in common with her sisters, she adds the charm of manner. In other words, when she loves a man, she shows it! The glance of the eye, the quiver of the lips, the gesture of her hands, these things speak for her and plead for her and pray for her!
“Oh—Jim!” she repeated.
“I told you I was coming,” was all that Jim said.
“But—how did you get here, Jim?”
“I flew through the air like a bird, just like I told you I would.”
Her hand motioned him to a seat by her side, and every posture of her body, as she moved aside to give him space, bespoke a welcome without words.