“I like it well enough,” said Mr. Jimson, letting unappreciative eyes wander over the blue water and the smiling landscape beyond. “It’s a great place to plan your business.”
“Business, business, business,” murmured the girl, “it seems sacrilege to mention that word here.”
“If it weren’t for business of various kinds, there wouldn’t be any Riverport,” said the man, with a backward nod of his head.
“Poor old Riverport!” said Berty; “poor, sordid, material old Riverport!”
The Mayor braced his feet harder and stared at her. Then he said, “If it weren’t for business, most of us would go under.”
“Yes, but we needn’t be holding it up all the time, and bowing down to it, and worshipping, and prostrating our souls before it, till we haven’t any spirit or beauty left.”
The Mayor stared at her again. Then he said, “You don’t seem as silly as most girls.”
This to Berty was a challenge. Her eyes sparkled wickedly, and from that instant till they reached the city she poured out a babble of girlish nonsense that completely bewildered the plain man before her.
“Will you let me off at the city wharf?” he asked, at last, when she had paused to take breath.
“Certainly,” said Berty, “after you row me home.”