His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. ” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. “You poor little girl!” he cried. ” She dropped back into a crouching attitude and began to weep. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. ‘The cat’s foot, Hilary.
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