"'That is'!" he sneered. "'I have.' 'Perhaps I have!' 'Maybe I
have--let's see what my notes say!' What in the devil is the matter with
the young men nowadays, anyway? Blood in your veins about as thick as
Porty Reek molasses! You say you have asked her to marry you? Well, if
you've asked her and mean it, have you got anything to do with that
Kavanagh girl being around this State House to-day?"
Harlan sprang to his feet. He threw the document upon the table. His
heart leaped within him. Even while his emotions bewildered him he found
himself asking his conscience why he had not searched for her in spite
of Dennis Kavanagh and her own plain desire to avoid him. The bare
knowledge that she was near sent the blood into his face. Her coming to
him seemed reproach for his acceptance of her flight.
"Do you mean that?"
"You are certainly giving me a fine imitation of a man who is
surprised," stated his grandfather. "Maybe you are! I hope so. But she's
here. She's with a bunch of girls from some school or other, paraded
around by a hatchet-faced woman--another crowing hen that's trying to
teach parliamentary law, I suppose.
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