I'm starved."
Philip noticed that his companion had tacked the sketch against
one of the logs above the table.
"Pretty good for imagination, Greggy," he said, nodding. "Burke
will jump at that if you do it in colors."
"Burke won't get it," replied Gregson, soberly, seating himself at
the table. "It won't be for sale."
"Why?"
Gregson waited until Philip had seated himself before he answered.
"Look here, old man--get ready to laugh. Split your sides, if you
want to. But it's God's truth that the girl I saw yesterday is the
only girl I've ever seen that I'd be willing to die for!"
"To be sure," agreed Philip. "I understand."
Gregson stared at him in surprise. "Why don't you laugh?" he
asked.
"It is not a laughing matter," said Philip. "I say that I
understand. And I do."
Gregson looked from Philip's face to the picture.
"Does it--does it hit you that way, Phil?"
"She is very beautiful."
"She is more than that," declared Gregson, warmly. "If I ever
looked into an angel's face it was yesterday, Phil. For just a
moment I met her eyes--"
"And they were--"
"Wonderful!"
"I mean--the color," said Philip, engaging himself with the food.
"They were blue or gray.
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