hicken, and then doing a high dive into a little dish that ain't--that
isn't either a wash-bowl or real good lemonade. He's a perfect lady,
Percy is. Dabs his mouth with his napkin like a watchmaker tinkering the
carburetor in a wrist watch.

"Lookit him bow and scrape--asking her something---- Rats, he's going
out in the lobby with her. Walks like a cat on a wet ash-pile. But----
Oh thunder, he's all right. Neat. I never could mingle with that bunch.
I'd be web-footed and butter-fingered. And he seems to know all that
bunch--bows to every maiden aunt in the shop. Now if I was following
her, I'd never see anybody but her; rest of the folks could all bob
their heads silly, and I'd never see one blame thing except that funny
little soft spot at the back of her neck. Nope, you're kind to your
cat, Milt, but you weren't cut out to be no parlor-organ duet."

This same meditative young man might have been discovered walking past
the porch of the hotel, his hands in his pockets, his eyes presumably on
the stars--certainly he gave no signs of watching Claire and the man in
riding-breeches as they leaned over the rail, looked at mountain-tops
filmy in starlight, while in the cologne-atomized mode, Breeches quoted:

Ah, 'tis far heaven my awed heart seeks
When I behold those mighty peaks.

Milt could hear him commenting, "Doesn't that just get the feeling of
the great open, Miss Boltwood?"

Milt did not catch her answer. Himself, he grunted, "I never could get
much het up about this poetry that's full of Ah's and 'tises."

Claire must have seen Milt just after he had sauntered past. She cried,
"Oh, Mr. Daggett! Just a moment!" She left Breeches, ran down to Milt.
He was frightened. Was he going to get what he deserved for
eavesdropping?

She was almost whispering. "Save me from our friend up on the porch,"
she implored.

He couldn't believe it. But he took a chance. "Won't you have a little
walk?" he roared.

"So nice of you--just a little way, perhaps?" she sang out.

They were silent till he got up the nerve to admire, "Glad you found
some people you knew in the hotel."

"But I didn't."

"Oh, I thought your friend in the riding-pants was chummy."

"So did I!" She rather snorted.

"Well, he's a nice-looking lad. I did admire those pants. I never could
wear anything like that."

"I should hope not--at dinner! The creepy jack-ass, I don't believe he's
ever been on a horse in his life! He thinks riding-br