Page:Claire Ambler (1928).djvu/24

 haps might have wondered how old men all contrived to look so much alike. He had never in his life seen a girl in the least like Claire Ambler, he was sure; never had he heard a voice so golden; never had he met a woman with so large an experience of the world; never had he been dazzled by so much brilliancy of mind.

He tried to express his bedazzlement as he walked home with her to her cottage in the late afternoon sunshine. "You cert'n'y gave us all a good time," he said seriously. "I couldn't begin to tell you the kick I got out of it myself."

"How?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know; but anyhow I did. It's kind of like something new coming into our lives here, or something like that. I mean the way you talk; or what I mean, I mean the way you say things. You got a way of saying things that's kind of got a kick in it. Anyhow, for me it has, I mean."

She looked at him gravely, seeming much interested; but for a time made no response; and, at intervals bumping into each other slightly, they walked slowly on over the uneven country road.

"I mean it," he said. "Honest, I really do mean it. I mean there's lots of kick in what you say."