He
fairly throws it about to make acquaintances."
"I don't like his looks at all," Irene said, her lips curled in
contempt. "Just then he stared at me in the most impertinent way. His
hideous eyes actually twinkled. Do you suppose he could possibly know
who I am?"
The compliment that every visitor to Atlanta would know her, at least
by sight, rose to his lips, but he suppressed it as decidedly
inappropriate to her mood.
"It isn't at all likely," Buckton answered, instead. "Besides, even if
he _did_, what ground would he have for thinking that our being
together on a train like this--you know what I mean."
"I know what you _want_ to mean," Irene said, disconsolately. "I also
know what such a creature as that would go out of his way to _think._"
"There, you are off again!" Buckton laughed in a mechanical tone,
which betrayed his uneasiness. "You are going to keep me busy brushing
away your fancies. I see that now. Pretty soon you will expect the
engineer to shut off steam and come back to take a peep at us. Your
imagination is getting the upper hand of you. Stop short now and smile
like your true, sweet self. I am happy and care-free, and I want you
to be so."
She said nothing, but gave him a faint, childlike smile.
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