"Steve can keep clean."
"Yes," agreeingly, "it's curious, but that's so. You're quite right, Steve's the better man of us two."
She tossed her head and blushed rosy red, but neither agreed nor disagreed with him.
"I'm going back now," she said, after a little pause. "I came for a walk to get a breath of fresh air. It isn't often I'm down in the gulch—it's not an inviting place. Are you leaving work now?"
"Yes," Bob answered; "but I'll wait awhile till you've gone. You'd not like to be seen walking with me."
He spoke quite simply, and scarcely understood why she pouted her pretty lips—putting it down as meaning that that she certainly would not like to do. He stood looking at her, then suddenly she turned away.
He watched her, hoping that perhaps she would turn her head; but she did not. She went slowly, though, and suddenly sat down on an earth-heap. He wondered why she was resting. He went to her. She was holding one foot as though it pained her, but her eyes laughed round at him and her cheeks were as red as a rose.
"Is anything the matter?" he asked.
"No," she answered, while her lips twitched amusedly; "at least, nothing much: I've sprained my ankle. I shall have to stop here till it is better."
"Can't you walk?" he said, looking troubled.