When you came up she would put her arm around
your neck and kiss you on the lips. The beard would tickle her cheek.
You should have a beard when you grow older. Your mouth is so big."
A strange new feeling shot through Beaut. He wondered why she had said
that and wanted to take hold of her hand and kiss her then and there.
He got up and looked at the sun going down behind the hill far away at
the other end of the valley. "We'd better be getting along back," he
said.
The woman remained seated on the log. "Sit down," she said, "I'll tell
you something--something it's good for you to hear. You're so big and
red you tempt a girl to bother you. First though you tell me why you
go along the street looking into the gutter when I stand in the
stairway in the evening."
Beaut sat down again upon the log, and thought of what the black-
haired boy had told him of her. "Then it was true--what he said about
you?" he asked.
"No! No!" she cried, jumping up in her turn and beginning to pin on
her hat. "Let's be going."
Beaut sat stolidly on the log. "What's the use bothering each other,"
he said. "Let's sit here until the sun goes down. We can get home
before dark."
They sat down and she began talking, boasting of herself as he had
boasted of his father.
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