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III. A Girl on Horseback—Conversation

           "

           "Mercy!—howmanyopinionsyoukeepaboutyouconcerningotherpeople,GabrielOak."

           "Well,Miss—excusethewords—Ithoughtyouwouldlikethem.ButIcan’tmatchyou,Iknow,inmappingoutmyminduponmytongue.Ineverwasverycleverinmyinside.ButIthankyou.Come,givemeyourhand."

           Shehesitated,somewhatdisconcertedatOak’sold-fashionedearnestconclusiontoadialoguelightlycarriedon."Verywell,"shesaid,andgavehimherhand,compressingherlipstoademureimpassivity.Hehelditbutaninstant,andinhisfearofbeingtoodemonstrative,swervedtotheoppositeextreme,touchingherfingerswiththelightnessofasmall-heartedperson.

           "Iamsorry,"hesaidtheinstantafter.

           "Whatfor?"

           "Lettingyourhandgosoquick."

           "Youmayhaveitagainifyoulike;thereitis."Shegavehimherhandagain.

           Oakhelditlongerthistime—indeed,curiouslylong."Howsoftitis—beingwintertime,too—notchappedorroughoranything!"hesaid.

           "There—that’slongenough,"saidshe,thoughwithoutpullingitaway."ButIsupposeyouarethinkingyouwouldliketokissit?Youmayifyouwantto."

           "Iwasn’tthinkingofanysuchthing,"saidGabriel,simply;"butIwill—"

           "Thatyouwon’t!"Shesnatchedbackherhand.

           Gabrielfelthimselfguiltyofanotherwantoftact.

           "Nowfindoutmyname,"shesaid,teasingly;andwithdrew.

           

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