There stood Don Jones, grinning.
"Missy gave Raymond a lock of her hair! Missy gave Raymond a lock of
her hair!"
Missy's face grew hot; blushing was not now a pleasure; she looked
up, then down; she didn't know where to look.
"Gimme one, too! You got to play fair, Missy--gimme one, too!"
Then, in that confusion of spirit, she heard her voice, which didn't
seem to be her own voice but a stranger's, saying:
"All right, you can have one, too, if you want it, Don."
Don forthwith advanced. Missy couldn't forebear a timid glance
toward Raymond. Raymond was not looking pleased. She wished she
might assure him she didn't really want to give the lock to Don, and
yet, at the same time, she felt strangely thrilled at that lowering
look on Raymond's face. It was curious. She wanted Raymond to be
happy, yet she didn't mind his being just a little bit unhappy--this
way. Oh, how complicated and fascinating life can be!
During the remainder of their stay at the ford Missy was preoccupied
with this new revelation of herself and with a furtive study of
Raymond whose continued sulkiness was the cause of it.
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