"Why didn't you send for me?"
"There wasn't anybody to send. Besides, you wouldn't have stayed. You never do, now."
She looked at him, then looked away. "You don't need me now—and I have my work to do."
"But I do need you, Phyllie."
It was the first time he had ever spoken the diminutive to her. He let out the word lingeringly, as if it were a caress. The girl felt the color flow beneath her dusky tan. She changed the subject abruptly.
"None of the boys are here. How am I to get you back to your room?"
"I'll roll a trail back there presently, ma'am."
She looked helplessly round the landscape, in hope of seeing some rider coming to the store. But nobody was in sight.
"You had no business to come. It might have killed you. I thought you had better sense," she reproached.
"I wanted to see you," he parroted again.