"Yes, Grandf'er does, but he don't count."
Her ingenuousness was bewitching, and I essayed to prolong the interview.
"Aren't you afraid to wander around in the woods this way alone?"
"Me!... Skeerd?"
For a moment she looked at me with dropped chin and a tiny frown of wonder, then a glad stream of laughter came pouring from her upheld mouth, filling the forest with rippling, echoing cadences. I gazed on the round, gleaming column of her young throat, milk-white and firm, and a subtle, primal call stirred in my breast. When her boisterous merriment had subsided, I could see her teeth, like young corn when the husks are green, between the scarlet of her parted lips.
I came closer yet. I was bewildered, puzzled, but strangely attracted. I scarcely knew how to answer her.
"You see," I tried to explain, "it—that is, where I came from young women go nowhere without an escort, except in town."
"Oh!"
Her face was serious now, and she seemed trying to comprehend.
"Whur'd you come frum?" she demanded, with disconcerting abruptness.