A Daughter of the Morning

by Zona Gale

"My word, you know. Then we've met before, we two."

"I've never had the pleasure of really meeting you, Mr. Carney," I said.

"You parted from me anyway. I remember that," he said. And presently he came back to where I was. "Here's my partner, please, madame," he said to Mrs. Carney.

So I sat beside him. Of course I wasn't afraid of him any more and I wasn't really annoyed by him. I could just study him now. And I thought: "If only every girl whom a man follows, as you followed me, could just study him—like a specimen."

"That was a devilish clever trick you played on me, you know," he said, when we were seated. "How'd you come to think of it?"

I said: "That was easy. I could think of it again."

"You could, could you?" said he. "Well, what I want to know is what you're doing here?"

"Mrs. Carney must tell you that," I reminded him.

He stared at me. "You're a cool one," he said. "Come, aren't you going to tell me something about yourself? Why, I must be just about the first friend you had in this little old town."