It seemed as if she were actually afraid of looking at him.
But when he said in a rather hurt tone, "Good afternoon, Miss
Edwards," she stopped, and turned abruptly toward him and without
speaking held out her hand. He had not ventured to offer his, but he
now took hers. Her face was red enough now, and what he saw in her
eyes made him forget everything else. They stood for several seconds
in this intensely awkward way, speechless, for she had not even
answered his greeting. Squire Edwards, in the act of putting back the
roll of dimity on the shelf, was staring over his shoulder at them,
astounded. She knew her father was looking at them, but she did not
care. She felt at that moment that she did not care who looked on or
what happened.
"How cold the weather is!" she said, dreamily.
"Yes, very," replied Perez.
"I hope it will be warmer, soon, don't you?" she murmered.
Then she seemed to come to herself, slowly withdrew her hand from his,
and walked slowly into the living-room and shut the door, and went
upstairs to her chamber. As soon as Hamlin had gone Edwards came in
and spoke with some indignation of his presumption.
"If he had not let go her hand, I should have taken him by the
shoulder in another second," he said angrily.
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