“What’s the matter with you?” she asked bluntly, as she watched him continue his ramble about the room.
“Me? Oh, I’m nervous.”
“Over what?”
“Meeting so many charming girls all at one time. It’s quite a strain on a fellow’s nerves. Didn’t you know that?”
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” said Jim smiling. “He’s quite harmless.”
“Indeed. And when you get really to know me,” added Griff, “you’ll like me a lot. Folks always do.”
Jeanette did not know quite what to make of him, and sat watching him, half fascinated, half disapproving. He noticed her gaze, interpreted it correctly, and, being a born tease, decided to bother her.
“Little blond girl,” he said, going over to her and taking her hand, “I feel that you are the only one here who really understands me. Come over on the window seat and talk to me, and I’ll sit as still as a mouse. Oh, have a heart,” he added, as she hesitated.
“Yes, Janie,” urged Martha; “do take pity on the rest of us, and keep that Perpetual Motion quiet for a few minutes. It would be an act of charity.”
Thus impelled, figuratively and literally, Jeanette, blushing to the roots of her hair, rose to comply with the request. Bowing low, Griff took her hand and led her ceremoniously across the room to the window seat, where he began to talk nonsense to her in a low tone.