"What's that you've written?"
The impudent greenish gray eyes bent closer.
"Oh, a little talk to the Governor——"
"I bet it's a hot one. Peeler says you don't like the Governor—read it to me!"
The editor looked up at the mischievous young face and laughed aloud:
"I'm afraid you wouldn't understand it."
The girl joined in the laugh and the dimples in the reddish brown cheeks looked prettier than ever.
"Maybe I wouldn't," she agreed.
He resumed his reading and she leaned over his chair until he felt the soft touch of her shoulder against his. She was staring at his paste-pot, extended her tapering, creamy finger and touched the paste.
"What in the world's that?" she cried, giggling again.