"It's no affair of mine."
"Unless," said Cressy, assuming her old position against the lintel of
the door, and smoothing the worn bear-skin that served as a mat with
the toe of her slipper, "unless you've mixed it up with your other
arbitration, you know."
"Wot other arbitration?" asked McKinstry suddenly, with murky eyes.
Stacey cast a rapid, half indignant glance at the young girl, who
received it with her hands tucked behind her back, her lovely head bent
submissively forward, and a prolonged little laugh.
"Oh nothing, Paw," she said, "only a little private foolishness betwixt
me and the gentleman. You'd admire to hear him talk, Paw--about other
things than business. He's just that chipper and gay."
Nevertheless, as with a muttered "Good-morning" the young fellow turned
away, she quietly brushed past her father, and followed him--with her
hands still penitently behind her, and the rosy palms turned upward--as
far as the gate. Her single long Marguerite braid of hair trailing down
her back nearly to the hem of her skirt, appeared to accent her demure
reserve.
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