There was no mistaking his determination to speak. It was useless to drop her eyes or turn aside. He would certainly follow.
She blushed and gazed at him in a timid, helpless fashion while he bent over her seat and whispered awkwardly:
“You look kind and obliging, miss—could you help me a little?”
His tone was so genuine in its appeal, so distressed and hesitating, it was impossible to resent his question.
“If I can—yes,” was the prompt answer.
“You won't mind?” he asked, fumbling his hat.
“No—what is it?”
Mary had recovered her composure as his distress had increased and looked steadily into his steel blue eyes inquiringly.
“You see,” he went on, in low hurried tones, “I'm all worked up about the mountains of North Carolina—thinkin' o' goin' down there to Asheville in a car, an' I want to look the bloomin' place up and kind o' get my bearin's before I start. A lawyer friend o' mine told me to come here and I'd find all the maps in the Century Dictionary. The man at the desk out there told me to come in this room and look in the shelves on the left and take it right out. Gee, the place is so big, I get all rattled. I found the Century Dictionary on that shelf——”
He paused and smiled helplessly.