He was rather surprised to find so much pleased animation in her face; truly, this girl from the city acted as if she were delighted by the news of his going away; she even seemed to be confessing it. “I’m glad!” she cried. Then she smoothed matters after a glance at his grieved and puzzled face. “I’m glad to hear a man say that he’s devoted to his work. So many these days don’t seem to take any interest in what they’re doing—they only talk wages. Yours must be a wonderful work—on the river—the excitement and all!”
“Yes,” he admitted, without enthusiasm.
The street was muddy and they went slowly; he hung back as if he wanted to drag out the moments of their new companionship.
He cast about for a topic; he did not feel like expatiating on the prospects ahead of him in his work. “If you’re going to make much of a stop here——”
She did not take advantage of his pause; he hoped she would indicate the proposed length of her stay, and he was worrying himself into a panic for fear she would not be in Adonia on his next visit to report to Flagg.
“I wish we had a better hotel here, so that you’d stay all contented for a time—and—and enjoy the country hereabouts.”
“Isn’t the hotel a fit place for a woman who is unaccompanied?”
“Oh, that isn’t it! It’s the slack way Brophy runs it. The help question! Martin does the best he knows how, but he finds it hard to keep table girls here in the woods. Has to keep falling back on his nephew, and the nephew isn’t interested in the waiter job. Wants to follow his regular line.”
“And what’s that?” she asked, holding to a safe topic.
“Running Dave’s stable. Nephew says the horses can’t talk back.”