Capitolo 23
"Good Skies", thought Barton, there "it is a man in this? It is it a
tryst? Well, of all the things!"
Stupidly he started out to back his/her horse of the I spring-puncture,
back--back--back through the tangled one, path excessively grown to shake
leaves and acute twigs, scribbled.
"I am very sorry, Miss Edgarton, to have forced my presence on you
then!" he ironically murmured.
"Oh, you are not alone!" rather frankly says Edgarton the small Eve. "It is
all friends of Father." Almost threateningly as her he/she spoke her it gave a shake on
his/her his/her own horse is drizzling mouth and you/he/she went in bicycle right to Barton as if to
also force again him faster through the great growl of brushwood. "ME
I hate intelligent people!" she passionately affirmed. "I hate them--the hate
them--hate them! I hate all intelligent friends of Father! I hate--"
"But you see me I am not intelligent Barton", sneered despite him. "Oh,
not intelligent to all", he reiterated with some grimness as an alder
branch pungently slapped him/it through an eye. "Indeed--" he shifted and
bent the head and it got excited, while still supporting, supporting, eternally
supporting--Your father has spent completely "indeed, very his/her valuable
time this afternoon that assures me--and reassuring me--that--that I am
together a fool!"
Inexorably the small Eve that the horse of Edgarton has kept right on forcing him/it
back--back--back.
"But if You none of the intelligent friends of Father it is--who is?" her
in demand perplexedly. "And because you insisted so on to ride with me
this afternoon?" she cried accusingly.
"I didn't precisely do--insists", Barton sneered with a throw of water of guilt. The
you line up the text of guilt it joins to the throw of water of heat it did him/it seem a lot suddenly
confused.
Through Eve the small thin face of Edgarton that the shine of the temperament has faded
immediately in the sulky and mere boredom again.
"Oh, dear--oh, dear", she hummed. "You--you didn't want sposarsimi,
did it do?"
Only for an angry second, prey to the panic the whole world seemed to turn