eBooks Base 2000

She had an indistinctive nose, a rather colorless
face--whiter at the angles of the mouth and nose through the relief of
tiny freckles like grains of pepper. Her mouth was straight, dark, red,
but moist as her eyes. She had drawn herself into the corner of the
back seat, her wrist put through and hanging over the swinging strap,
the easy lines of her plump figure swaying from side to side with the
motion of the coach. Finally, forgetful of any presence in the dark
corner opposite, she threw her head a little farther back, slipped a
trifle lower, and placing two well-booted feet upon the middle seat,
completed a charming and wholesome picture.
Five minutes elapsed. She was looking straight at the moon. Cass Beard
felt his dignified reserve becoming very much like awkwardness. He
ought to be coldly polite.
"I hope you're not flustered, Miss, by the--by the"--he began.
"I?" She straightened herself up in the seat, cast a curious glance
into the dark corner, and then, letting herself down again, said: "Oh
dear, no!"
Another five minutes elapsed.


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