"If you only would!"
"Treat him like a Dutch uncle," Rawlins advised, "ride around with him, show him he can be a friend, and nothing but a friend. What's he doing now?"
"He was going to shave, he got out a mug as big as the well-bucket and stood in the kitchen door stirrin' up his mess of lather, talkin' all the time. It's something terrible the deception they can put in a photograph of a man."
"Yes, and even of the ladies now and then."
"He took off his collar to get at his whiskers. You've only seen about half of that man."
"Was it before, or after, that he tried his little loving pass with you?"
"Before, darn him! He slopped his old lather all over the kitchen floor—some of it got on my face. Aunt Lila nearly split herself laughin'. I never saw her take such an off-hand shine to a man—I don't see where her sudden interest in seein' me married comes in. She's my guardian, and will be till I'm my own man."
"That will be a good while yet," he said, not believing it, but following the age-old custom for men to pretend women are younger than they seem.
"No, only a few weeks more. I'll be twenty-one in June, but I don't expect to kick anything over when I am."
"Except Peck's fond hopes, maybe."
"I'd hang myself if I thought he was going to stick around here that long," she declared.
"If that's the way you take it, something's got to be done to start him on his way."
