"Let me keep it decent for you."
"Thanks, no. It seems more home-like this way."
"Must it be so dirty?" she asked, looking about the room and picking up the scattered papers from the floor.
Norton, watching her with indulgent amusement at her impudence, saw that she moved her young form with a rhythmic grace that was perfect. The simple calico dress, with a dainty little check, fitted her perfectly. It was cut low and square at the neck and showed the fine lines of a beautiful throat. Her arms were round and finely shaped and bare to an inch above the elbows. The body above the waistline was slender, and the sinuous free movement of her figure showed that she wore no corset. Her step was as light as a cat's and her voice full of good humor and the bubbling spirits of a perfectly healthy female animal.
His first impulse was to send her about her business with a word of dismissal. But when she laughed it was with such pleasant assurance and such faith in his friendliness it was impossible to be rude.
She picked up the last crumpled paper and laid it on a table beside the wall, turned and said softly:
"Well, if you don't want me to clean up for you, anyhow, I brought you some flowers for your room—they're outside."
She darted through the door and returned in a moment with an armful of roses.
"My mother let me cut them from our yard, and she told me to thank you for coming that night. They'd have killed us if you hadn't come."
"Nonsense, they wouldn't have touched either you or your mother!"