Capitolo 35
to shoot on a pair of men to be a few indiscreet, but--"
In a bump Barton raised him to a laying of session.
"You 'it shot on' a pair of men?" he demanded peremptorily.
Through the hook of an elbow mud-dirtied that it pushes again the soaked edge
of his/her hat, the girl threw a look toward him as a vaguely made perplexed
small ragamuffin. "It was--messy", she slightly admitted. Out of her
hair's growl storm-without breath, torn beaten by wind and it rains, her
peered at on suddenly first with her frowning signal of embarrassment.
"If there is a thing in the world that I repent", her the faltered
deprecatingly, "it is a--it is--a messy struggle."
Together violently Barton bursts out laughing. There was no joy in
the laughter, but only noise. "Oh, let's go home!" he suggested
hysterically.
"House?" faltered the small Eve Edgarton. With an indolent kind of challenge
she arrived out and it gathered the great discard-book bathed to his/her breast.
"Because, the Mr. Barton", she said, "we could not now find to house in all this
storm and the obscurity and failure--to save our lives. But even if it
it was clear of moon", her the singsonged, "and light of the stars--and the tall-midday; also
if there was--the wagons--to the door, I am not going home--now--up to
I have ended my discard-book--if it takes a week."
"Eh?" Given Barton a shake. "Thing?" Laboriously he got thin direct. For
five hours now of unwise horseback riding, of storm and deprivation through
death and disaster, the girl tenaciously had clung to his/her books and
papers. Which in creation it was them? "For the cause of Sky--Miss
Edgarton--" he started.
"Oh, you don't get excited--so", it said Edgarton the small Eve. "It is not anything but my
book of carpet-doll."
"Does Your Carpet-doll Book?" Stammered Barton. With another effort of racking
he got thin even more distant in before. "Miss Edgarton!" he asked completely
"is it francamente,--crazy?"
[The illustration: her "Your Carpet-doll Books?" Stammered Barton]
"N--OR! But--small very definite Eve", spoken to goslow mode Edgarton. With
smooth serenity she chose on a pulpy periodic-page from the