“We—ell, twenty, perhaps.”
“Add five. Say twenty-five.”
“What for?” demanded Sedgwick indignantly.
“I’m allowing for the discount of romance. Did you notice her boots?”
“Not particularly; except that she was always spick and span from head to foot.”
“Humph! Was it pretty warm the last week she called on you?”
“Piping!”
“Did she show it?”
“Never a bit. Always looked fresh as a flower.”
“Then, although she came far, she didn’t walk far to get here. There’s a road back of the hill yonder, and a little copse in an open field where a motor-car has stood. I should say that she had driven herself there and come across the hill to you.”