“You’re sure you’ve forgotten about that chap?”
“Quite. He doesn’t exist.”
Again they were silent, the sun picking out radiant bits of Polly’s hair to light upon as she stood leaning against Scott’s arm, his rough coat rubbing her soft skin.
“It’s a nice old world,” she said, drawing a long breath.
“It’s good enough for me,” he answered as he leaned over and kissed her.
“Do you know, I’ve been wondering for a week whether it was me or Mrs. Van Zandt that you were in love with?” said Polly, with one of her sudden smiles.
“Me? Care for——” Scott’s voice died away in surprise.
“You behaved as though you did. You are always so gentle and pleasant with her.”
“I’m gentle and pleasant with everybody,” declared Scott, stoutly. “I have that kind of disposition.”
“I think you’d better go and get the horses,” suggested Polly. “I’d rather not begin disagreeing with you just yet.”