“And you haven’t read them!” Sarah laughed and stopped herself. “That’s a new high in something! What’d you do—steal ’em?”
“She sent them to me.”
“Sent—” The girl’s voice broke. “Sent them to you!”
“Unh.”
“She sent them to you? She must be crazier than writing all this even would indicate.”
Jimmie sighed lightly. “I dunno. Naturally.”
“But why? Why? Some kind of advertisement? Some way of showing you that—but any man with half a pair of eyes could see that gilded fireball was—! I don’t get it!”
“I’m sorry you found those books.”
“I’m not. Not by a long way! I’ll remember this morning as about tops in my eighteen years!” Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “Jimmie, tell me. You aren’t one of those—well—I was a kid when you left here. I worshiped you, and you never noticed—and all that. But I never knew anything about you, really. You aren’t one of those fabulous, innocent people, are you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Innocent?”