"Peter," she said, "I've taken on more work than I can possibly
finish on time, and I'm the lonesomest person in California
today."
"I doubt that," said Peter gravely. "If you are any lonesomer
than I am you must prove it."
"I have proved it," said Linda quietly. "If you had been as
lonesome as I am you would have come to me. As it is, I have
come to you."
"I see," said Peter rather breathlessly. "What have you there,
Linda? Why did you come?"
"I came for two reasons," said Linda. "I want to ask you about
this stuff. Several times this summer you have heard talk about
Jane Meredith and the Everybody's Home articles. Ever read any
of them, Peter?"
"Yes," said Peter, "I read all of them. Interested in home stuff
these days myself."
"Well," said Linda, dumping her armload before Peter, "there's
the proof and there's the illustration and there's the cover
design for a book to be made from that stuff. Peter, make your
best boy and say 'pleased to meet you' to Jane Meredith."
Peter secured both of Linda's hands and held them. First he
looked at her, then he looked at the material she had piled down
in front of him.
"Never again," said Peter in a small voice, "will I credit myself
with any deep discernment, any keen penetration. How I could
have read that matter and looked at those pictures and not seen
you in and through and over them is a thing I can't imagine.
It's great, Linda, absolutely great! Of course I will help you
any way in the world I can.
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