"Well, we'll see," he answered cheerfully. "Get up here close to the
fire and take off those wet things while I put away the horses."
And with that he went out, whistling.
CHAPTER X
A LITTLE PERSONAL HISTORY
Hazel discarded the wet coat, and, drawing a chair up to the fire, took
off her sopping footgear and toasted her bare feet at the blaze. Her
clothing was also wet, and she wondered pettishly how in the world she
was going to manage with only the garments on her back--and those dirty
and torn from hacking through the brush for a matter of two weeks.
According to her standards, that was roughing it with a vengeance. But
presently she gave over thinking of her plight. The fire warmed her,
and, with the chill gone from her body, she bestowed a curious glance
on her surroundings.
Her experience of homes embraced only homes of two sorts--the
middle-class, conventional sort to which she had been accustomed, and
the few poorly furnished frontier dwellings she had entered since
coming to the hinterlands of British Columbia. She had a vague
impression that any dwelling occupied exclusively by a man must of
necessity be dirty, disordered, and cheerless.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144