"You sleeping well?" Joy was all too plainly in her voice now—irrepressible joy.
He laughed, and caught her hands rapturously. She did not deny him, and he kissed them.
"Oh, you are delightful!" said he.
"Me? I don' sleep—moach."
"You look as fresh as new porcelain."
"Yaes; I been fix up."
She consciously let him look her over.
"No; I did n't sleep at first. I was listening to your voice," Garland confessed, quite without reservation.
The girl was confused a little.
"You don' lig be annoy with those voice?"
"Why, it is divine!"
A white shaft of fear crossed her face.
"Tha' 's—jus'—fun—I egspeg?"
"Tha' 's ver' earnest," he gaily mocked.
He was pleasing her now. She even went with his mood a little way. Joy was such a beautiful and tempting and elusive thing!
"Lig goddess, mebby?"
Garland nodded seriously.
"Tha' 's nize—for me."
"An' for me"—in quite her own manner.
