Following the direction of her daughter's eyes, Mrs. West saw a rather thick-set man with hunched-up shoulders, looking straight in front of him, a cigar gripped aggressively between his teeth. He was walking in the direction that would bring him within a few feet of the seat on which they sat.
"He'll never see us," whispered Dorothy excitedly. "He never sees anything, not even a joke. Oh! I wish he would," she added. "I should so like you to meet him."
Mrs. West did not speak; she was gazing with interest at the approaching figure.
"Mother dear, do you think you could faint?" Dorothy's eyes were shining with excitement.
"Faint!" echoed Mrs. West.
"Yes, then I could call for help and John Dene would come, and you would get to know him. I'm sure he'll never see us."
"Hush, dear, he might hear what you are saying," said Mrs. West.
When John Dene was within a few feet of them, Dorothy's sunshade fell forward, seeming to bring him back with a start to his surroundings. Instinctively he stepped forward, picked up the sunshade and lifting his hat handed it to Dorothy. For a moment there was a puzzled expression in his eyes, followed instantly by one of recognition; and then John Dene smiled, and Mrs. West liked him.
"You see, I found my way," he said to Dorothy when she had introduced him to her mother, and for some reason she blushed.
"We often come here," said Dorothy lamely, conscious that her mother's eyes were upon her.