"There they are!" exclaims Vee. "Loads of them. And aren't they fragrant? Smell, Torchy."
"I am," says I, sniffin' deep. "Don't you hear me?"
"Yes; and that Mr. Shinn will too, if you're as noisy as that over it," says she. "I suppose that is where he lives. Isn't it the cutest little cottage?"
"It needs paint here and there," says I.
"I know," says Vee. "But look at that old Dutch roof with the wide eaves, and the recessed doorway, and the trellises on either side, and that big clump of purple lilacs nestling against the gable end. Oh, and there's a cunning little pond in the rear, just where it ought to be! I do wish we might go in and walk around a bit."
"Why not?" says I. "What would it hurt?"
"But that Shinn person," protests Vee, "might—might not——"
"Well, he couldn't any more'n shoo us off," says I, "and if he's nutty enough to do that after a good look at you, then he's hopeless."
"You absurd boy!" says Vee, squeezin' my hand. "Well, anyway, we might venture in a step or two."
As a matter of fact, there don't seem to be anyone in sight. You might almost think nobody lived there; for the new grass ain't been cut, the flower beds are full of dry weeds left over from last fall, and most of the green shutters are closed.