“Something like that.”
“I knew it.”
Jim was getting his nerve back. It was the first time he had been in close proximity to a powdered back and rouged lips, and the sensation was curious. No man with blood in his veins could help admiring the soft lines of her neck and arms—and Jim had plenty of blood about him.
“Where’d you say you hailed from?” he queried.
“Rock Springs, Wyoming. D’you know it?” 19
“Know it? I should say! Wal, if that ain’t the pink limit!”
“We ran a ranch there,” she went on in a rich musical voice. “I wish I was there now, but there’s a spell about cities. You’ll find that out soon enough.”
“I ain’t seen much spell about this one,” retorted Jim. “Gee! I’ve never seen such a bunch of blank-mangy-looking men. The wimmen ain’t so bad.”
She laughed.
“Thank you!”