The short figure turned on his heel and looked up at her, his shoulder-line a full three inches below hers, and his small, predaceous eyes squinting far back into his head.
"Gad—what?"
"I—I'm here—sir—don't you remember—me—I'm here."
He regarded her with the detailed appraisal of the expert, and his glance registered points in her favor.
"Gad!" he repeated.
"Don't—you remember—me—sir—don't—"
"Not bad for a big girl—are you—eh?"
"Don't you remember?"
"Sure—you're the little girl I met out West—didn't I?—two seasons ago with—"
"No—no—no! Don't you remember me now?"