“Want?” she turned upon him with startled eyes. There was so much that she wanted, that the mere mention of the word had opened a well of pain in her heart.
“I mean, can I do anythin' for you?”
“Oh, of course not.” She remembered how little ANY ONE could do.
“What is it, Poll?” he begged; but she only turned away and shook her head with a sigh. He followed her with anxious eyes. “What made yer cut out the show to-day? Was it because you didn't want ter ride afore folks what knowed yer? Ride afore HIM, mebbe?”
“HIM?” Her face was white. Jim feared she might swoon. “You don't mean that he was——”
“Oh, no,” he answered, quickly, “of course not. Parsons don't come to places like this one. I was only figurin' that yer didn't want OTHER folks to see yer and to tell him how you was ridin'.” She did not answer.
“Was that it, Poll?” he urged.
“I don't know.” She stared into space.
“Was it?”
“I guess it was,” she said, after a long time.