“No, and you didn’t want to hear me as much as you made out; you forgot,” she said.
“I would like to hear you this minute.”
“Then come with me home.”
“But look at me: my face—my hands—these boots.”
Esther looked at him quickly. “You are vain.” Slipping her hand in his, she gently pulled him a little way. “Oh, come on, what do you suppose I care about dust. We have soap and water.”
He let her have her way, and allowed himself to be led.
The sun hung low in the sky as they started off, and was just dropping behind the mountains when they reached the house. Faint zones of pink and pearl flushed up, and everything was quickened—glorified by the softening light.
“I’ve got a picture in my scrap book that looks like you.” Esther stared Glenn Andrews full in the face as she spoke. “It is a picture of Christ.”
CHAPTER VII.
“I like you in those high boots.” Esther put her foot on the tip of one of them as she spoke.