So I thought you'd be a safe person to ask.
I can't look after him; and his mother--well, she's worse than useless.
But a man--a real strong man like you--is different. If I were to
introduce you, couldn't you look after him a bit--just till we get
across?"
With much simplicity she made her request, but there was a tinge of
anxiety in her eyes. Certainly West, staring steadily forth over the
grey waste of tumbling waters, looked sufficiently forbidding.
After several seconds of silence he flung an abrupt question:
"Why don't you ask some one else?"
"There is no one else," she answered.
"No one else?" He made a gesture of impatient incredulity.
"No one that I can trust," she explained.
"And you trust me?"
"Of course I do."
"Why?" Again he looked at her with a piercing scrutiny. His eyes held a
savage, almost a threatening expression.
But the girl only laughed, lightly and confidently.
"Why? Oh, just because you are trustworthy, I guess. I can't think of
any other reason."
West's look relaxed, became abstracted, and finally fell away from her.
"You appear to be a lady of some discernment," he observed drily.
She proffered her hand impulsively, her eyes dancing.
"My, that's the first pretty thing you've said to me!" she declared
flippantly. "I just like you, Mr. West!"
West was feeling for his cigarette case. He gave her his hand without
looking at her, as if her approbation did not greatly gratify him.
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