“And her blue eyes,” interrupted Jordan, smiling widely.
“Her talent, you mean,” corrected Molly.
“And her curls,” laughed Morse. “I swear if she wasn’t 183 a relation of mine I’d marry the kid myself. She’s a beauty!... She’s got you skinned to death.”
“You needn’t be insulting, Jordan,” admonished Molly, flushing.
“It’s the truth, though. That’s where the rub comes. You can’t wool me, Molly. If she were hideous, you wouldn’t worry at all.... Why, I know seven or eight girls right here in Bellaire who’d give their eye teeth and wear store ones to get Theodore to look at ’em crosseyed.... Lord, what fools women are!”
Molly left him angrily, and Morse, shrugging his shoulders, strolled on through the trees. Not far from the house he met Theodore, and they wandered on together, smoking in silence. Morse suddenly developed an idea. Why shouldn’t he sound King about Jinnie? Accordingly, he began with:
“That’s a wonderful girl, Grandoken’s niece.”
This topic was one Theodore loved to speak of, to dream so, so he said impetuously:
“She is indeed. I only wish I could get her away from Paradise Road.”
Morse turned curious eyes on his friend.