“Don’t touch me; I’m covered with grease. Had an awful time making her go. Take my hat.”
He removed the wide Panama, bending down to the lips which were offered to him. She ran to the end of the dock and kneeling splashed her hands in the water; daintiness itself in the bending slenderness of her lines, the thin skirt clinging to the willowy hips, the curved line of the leg unconsciously revealed, the spilling masses of her hair which, though caught at the back, came tumbling about her cheeks, now pouting in disdain at the soiling smudges.
All at once she straightened up, shaking the brilliant drops from her fingers, and glanced up into his face, her intuition feeling immediately the change.
“What is the matter?”
“They’ve been around again—three of them!”
Her face clouded; she nodded gloomily.
“The beasts! Don’t mind them.”
“You were away a dreadfully long time,” he said restlessly.
She came to his side, passing her arm through his, smiling with the pleasure of knowing how much she had been desired.
“All the fault of the poky engine.” Then she perceived the porch and the trunks which he had dragged out in his fitful impatience, and stopped with an involuntary exclamation of dismay.