He stood grasping the rope rail of the plank,
gazing goggle-eyed while the plank was lifted to the steamer's
deck and the long line of smiling and waving passengers
disembarked. Then he saw her--tall, graceful, nonchalant,
uninterested, in a smart check suit with a lively hat of black
straw, carrying a new Gladstone bag.
He stared at her. "Gee!" he gasped. "I'm crazy about her.
I am, all right."
She saw him, and their smiles of welcome made them one.
She came from the plank and hastily kissed him.
"Really here!" she laughed.
"Well, well, well, well! I'm so glad to see you!"
"Glad to see you, Mouse dear."
"Have good tr--"
"Don't ask me about it! There was a married man _sans_ wife who
persecuted me all the way over. I'm glad _you_ aren't going to
fall in love with me."
"Why--uh--"
"Let's hustle over and get through the customs as soon as we
can. Where's N? Oh, how clever of it, it's right by M.
There's one of my trunks already. How are you, Mouse dear?"
But she didn't seem really to care so very much, and the old
bewilderment she always caused was over him.
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