“Lightwood,” she answered briefly, stacking the fragrant splinters on the table.
“Do you live here all alone?”
“Reckon I’m alone when I live heah,” sullenly.
“What is your name?” He had a trick of coloring easily.
“What may be yoh name, suh?” she retorted with a little flash of Southern spirit, never entirely quenched even in such as she seemed to be.
Genuine surprise brought the red back into his face and made it, worn as it was, seem almost handsome. The curious idea came to her that she had seen him before somewhere. At the same moment speech seemed to tremble on his lips; he hesitated, looked at her with a new and sudden keenness, and stood looking.
“I expected to meet somebody here,” he said at length.
She did not seem to comprehend.
“I expected to meet a woman here.”
“Who? Me?” incredulously.