“You'll have to try it again some other evening,” I said.
“She doesn't want to marry any one. That's about the way she puts it—but more politely. I told her that if she didn't want to be proposed to again she'd better avoid me. I expect to convince her that she's wrong.”
He left me, and I went to see Norris, who had sent word that he wished to talk with me.
XIV.—MISS GWENDOLYN DEFINES HER POSITION
I FOUND Norris looking better, and it's a sure thing that I was looking worse. I felt weary—the natural reaction of all that deviltry! Exercise with the pitchfork is all right under proper circumstances, but a man near fifty years of age should use more care than I had done in the choice of circumstances.
“What's the matter?” was the query of Norris.
“Been fightin',” I said, remembering how I had answered a similar question of my father one day when I returned from school with a black eye and my trousers torn. “They kep' pickin' on me.”
Then I told him the story of my quarrel with the slim count and its climax. But I said nothing of Forbes's part in the matter. We laughed so loudly that the nurse entered in a panic to see what was the matter.