Chapter 7
Miss Georgie Howard, Operator"Where is the delightful Mr. Good Indian off to?" Evadna stopped
drumming upon the gatepost and turned toward the person she heard
coming up behind her, who happened to be Gene. He stopped to light
a match upon the gate and put his cigarette to work before he
answered her; and Evadna touched tentatively the wide, blue ribbon
wound round her arm and tied in a bow at her elbow, and eyed him
guardedly.
"Straight up, he told me," Gene answered sourly. "He's sore over
something that happened last night, and he didn't seem to have any
talk to give away this morning. He can go to the dickens, for all I
care."
"WHAT—happened last night?" Evadna wore her Christmas-angel
expression; and her tone was the sweet, insipid tone of childlike
innocence.
