"I'm rattled," Johnnie confessed. "Why, that girl just bounced
right into the middle of everything, and--and I can't bounce her
out again."
"You say she's young, and PRETTY, and--RICH?" Leslie was
incredulous.
"Y-yes! All of that."
"Um-m! Doctor Alvarado must mix a good cocktail."
"Why?"
"Because you're drunk and delirious. They don't come that way, my
boy. When they're rich they're old and ugly."
"I tell you this girl is young and--stunning."
"Of course she is," Branch agreed, soothingly. "Now go to sleep
and don't think any more about her, there's a good boy! Everything
will be all right in the morning. Perhaps it never happened;
perhaps you didn't meet any woman at all." The speaker yawned and
turned over.
"Don't be an ass," Johnnie cried, impatiently. "What are we going
to do with a woman on our hands?"
"WE? Don't divide her with me. What are YOU going to do? The truth
is plain, this Miss Evans is in love with you and you don't know
it. She sees in you her soul mate. Well, if you don't want her, I
want her. I'll eat her medicine. I'll even--marry the poor old
soul, if she's rich."
O'Reilly arose early the next morning and hurried down to the
office of the Junta, hoping that he could convince Mr. Enriquez of
the folly of allowing Norine Evans to have her way. By the light
of day Miss Evans's project seemed more hare-brained than ever,
and he suspected that Enriquez had acquiesced in it only because
of a natural inability to refuse anything to a pretty woman--that
was typically Cuban.
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