He rose to his feet and stood looking down at her.
“Why must it be good-by? I never met anybody I liked so much. I don’t know what’s happening to me—something wonderful and strange. What shall we quarrel about?”
“’Most anything. I don’t begrudge the rich anything they have, only I wish they’d let me alone.”
“But I’m not rich.”
“Of course you are. You look just like a prince.”
“Miss Moccasins, all I own is four thousand two hundred and eighty-nine dollars. My father is worth a million, but I won’t take a cent from him if you say so.”
“You’re almost making love to me, aren’t you?”
“Why, yes, almost.”
“You mustn’t. You are as impulsive as a perch. Were you fishing?”
“I was, but I didn’t find them very impulsive.”