He looked at her in concern. “You are upset,” he said, and they both laughed.
She followed him about for an hour, talking, watching his exact, methodical movements. The early morning air was keen, in spite of the sun. When the postman appeared on the block she ran to the gate to meet him. He was an old friend, on the route ever since she could remember.
“Hello, Miss Bambi, you’re early this morning,” he called.
“I couldn’t sleep for my sins. If you don’t give me a letter, Mr. Ben, I’ll scream.”
“Go ahead!”
“You mean—”
He laughed at her discomfited face and handed her the letter. A quick glance showed the Empire Theatre in one corner. She blew him a kiss on her finger tips.
“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, dear Mr. Ben. That’s it!”
“I tell you I’m a regular little Cupid. Don’t know what the girls in this town would do without me,” he laughed, as he trudged away. Bambi read:
“My Dear Mrs. Jocelyn: It gives me pleasure
