"Yes—she looks like that kind." Donelle threw a kiss to the pictured Jo.
Another week and then the chair was discarded. Quite impressively Norval, his hand on the small, steady shoulder, did the length of the studio.
"It's great," he said like a happy boy. "Miss Walden, you ought to have the cross, iron, gold, or whatever it is they give to brave women."
"I have," Donelle whispered delightedly; "I have."
"What is it made of, Miss Walden, this cross that you have won?"
"You'll have to guess."
"You're a pert young secretary if that is the title your job goes by. Aren't you afraid I'll bounce you?"
"I'm going to bounce myself."
"What!" The hand on the shoulder tightened. "You're going away?"
"Yes, I cannot stand a summer in the city. That Kicker almost caught me this morning."