XV
WHEN A MAID IS COY
Mr. Richard Dodd came wooing.
He waited in his gray car at the curb in front of the First National Bank block until Kate Kilgour issued forth into the afternoon sunshine.
He called to her, holding open the side door.
“I just had to see you,” he told her. “I have come down from the capital, doing forty miles an hour. You're more precious than all the money I have locked up in the vaults.”
He did not find in her eyes any of that acclaimed glad love-light which eager lovers seek. On the contrary, Miss Kilgour made just a bit of a face at him and was distinctly petulant.
“I do not want to ride, Richard. I enjoy my walk. I need it after a day at my desk.”
“But I'm going to take you on a long ride into the country. We'll have dinner at Hillcrest Inn and we'll—”