“You are a sport, Max! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Men are helpful sometimes, aren’t they?”
“I guess they’re absolutely necessary,” replied Mary Louise modestly. “I never seem to be able to get along without them.”
“That’s the proper attitude for a girl,” he answered gayly.
Farther along the road they stopped in front of another empty house. It was situated at the top of a steep incline and almost completely surrounded by trees.
“Can you climb that hill, Max?” she asked.
“I can try—if you think there’s any use,” he replied.
It was a difficult task, for the driveway was so covered with slush that it was hard to tell which was road and which was field. But Max made it in low gear, and they came to a stop in front of a barn, under a big tree.
The house was shabby and unpainted; its windows were covered with boards, and its heavy doors without glass. Mary Louise shuddered: it reminded her of Dark Cedars.
Max turned off the motor and jumped out of the car.