CHAPTER XIII
TOM MEANS BUSINESS
Polly’s friends had not completed their dressing when Tom was announced, but she was waiting in the cozy library; so Tom crossed the long formal parlor in a few strides, when he caught sight of her in the softly shaded light of the floor-lamp.
“Polly! Oh, but I’m glad to see you again!” breathed he as he caught both hands and devoured her smiles with his eyes.
“I should hope you would be glad! Isn’t everyone I know glad to see me after they have been absent a long time?” laughed Polly, in a matter-of-fact tone.
But Tom glanced hastily about the room. Then he quite unexpectedly leaned forward and caught her face between his palms. “Polly Brewster, I’m going to salute you with a brotherly kiss!” whispered Tom, and immediately, he pressed a kiss upon her red lips—but Polly felt sure it was not like John’s kisses.
She tried to free her head from his powerful hands, but he laughed masterfully and held her under the light while he gazed into her eyes. Finally Polly felt herself growing warm and flushed, and to stop his look she closed her eyes and began kicking at his shins.
With a happy laugh, Tom freed her face and picked her up in his arms. In three long strides he was over at the divan where he placed her, sitting upright. Then he sat down beside her.
“Why—Tom Latimer!” gasped Polly, angrily, trying to rearrange her hair which had become tumbled in the fray.