“Humph!” she sniffed significantly. “You can’t fool your grandmother! Every sensible person in this world is after something, and he knows mighty well what it is. It’s all moonshine, this not knowin’ why you do things. Now, own up; it wasn’t an overpowering interest in Walter that brought you here; now, was it?”
“I don’t believe it was,” he admitted cheerfully.
“And it wasn’t due to the overpowering attractions of Phœbe Norris?” she persisted in her cross-examination.
“It may have been,” he looked at her calmly.
“What?” she cried. “You’d never heard of me.”
“Well,” he argued, “Adam had never heard of Eve, but God went on confidently making all the arrangements.”
She mused over the thought.
“I forgot,” she said finally. “I did invite you to lay on a little flattery. And you did it well. And, by the same token, though I know it’s a lie, it gives one a mighty pleasin’ sensation.... Go along with you, man!... Adam and Eve!... Pfut!... It’s a scandalous picture you’re after puttin’ into my mind!”
CHAPTER XVI
TREMOR CORDIS
Richard showed no indication to leave his comfortable place on Phœbe Norris’ porch. And Phœbe hummed about her work like a young healthy bee. When she felt particularly pleased she put little burbles of low laughter between her sentences; chuckles is not the exact word; they were suggestive rather of the cooing of pigeons. On the Lake the conversation could not be distinguished, but these interjectory ripples floated out clearly enough.