me an apology for breaking your engagement, young lady!"
But really, I was so flustered and astonished at his dismissing Hazel with a mere wave of the hand, you might say, that I couldn't think of a thing to tell him. We rode along in silence for a while, with Mr. Daft closely studying my averted face. Suddenly he burst out:
"Listen, little girl, you have me cataloged all wrong. Get the idea out of your pretty head that I have any unholy designs on you—that's out! You certainly must be aware of the fact that I'll never expire of not knowing beautiful women. It isn't just me—any man in my position has 'em thrown at him hourly! Well, six-fifths of them are meaningless. You're not, which explains my interest!"
"Oh, thank you, sir, she cried!" I says demurely.
"You'll thank me yet and mean it!" says Mr. Daft. "I'm not interested in your figure—though it's a pulse-quickener—I'm interested in your future, get me? I'm not trying to promote you, I'm trying to put you where you'll get important money, lots of fame and lots of laughs!"
"Yes, yes, go on!" I says.
"I wish you'd stop clowning and get serious for a minute!" says Mr. Daft pettishly. "I tell you it's the crime of the century for a girl with your unusual good
