“Very likely.”
“It isn’t so easy to begin, you know,” she remarked, nursing her knee thoughtfully. “Am I—Do you find me very much in the way?’”
“No.”
“Don’t suppress your wild enthusiasm on my account,” she besought him. “I haven’t interfered with your duties so far, have I?”
“No,” answered Banneker wondering what was coming next.
“You see”—her tone became ruminative and confidential—“if I give you my name and you report it, there’ll be all kinds of a mix-up. They’ll come after me and take me away.”
Banneker dropped a tin on the floor and stood, staring.
“Isn’t that what you want?”
“It’s evident enough that it’s what you want,” she returned, aggrieved.
“No. Not at all,” he disclaimed. “Only—well, out here—alone—I don’t understand.”