“I didn’t want him t’ come no more.”
“He said somethin’ insultin.’ I know. And when I see him again––”
She looked at me square then, and I seen a shine in them sweet eyes. “Alec,” she says, “you ast me oncet t’ cut that man out. Wal, when I got here, it was the only thing I could do fer–fer you.”
“My little gal!–and nobody else ain’t been visitin’ you. Aw! I’m a jealous critter!”
“Nobody else. People ain’t very sociable here.” Her lip kinda trembled.
That hurt me, and I run outen talk, fer all I had a heap t’ say. They was a lot of twitterin’ goin’ on overhaid, and she was peekin’ up and ’round, showing a chin that was enough t’ coop the little birds right outen the trees.
I lent closter. “Say, Mace,” I begun again, “ain’t this park O. K. fer green grass? I reckon the Bar Y cows ’d like to be turned loose here.”
She smiled a little, awful tender. “Bar Y!” she says, pullin’ at her gauntlets.
It give me spunk. “Mace,” I says again, “if I’d ’a’ been mean, I’d ’a’ let the parson go on marryin’ us, wouldn’t I? Did you ever think of that, little gal?”
She looked down, blinkin’.