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The Strange Attraction

gather at the back of his eyes. She had spoken with the pert ease of a spoiled child, and it had amused him and surprised him into the simple truth.

“You’re right. I am blue. I was going to ask if you would let me ride on the beach with you. I have my horse down here in Benton’s stable.”

Her eyes widened and she felt very warm inside. “May I ask why you hesitated at first?”

“Well, it would take a long time to tell. Hesitations have a complicated background.”

“That may be. But I want you to understand something this minute. You don’t have to hesitate about asking me anything. I don’t run my life on hesitations. I’d have you know I’m a free spirit.”

Her head went up as she said it, and he thought he had never seen a more ravishing picture of youthful defiance, and absurd self-assurance.

“I salute you, Miss Freedom,” he said with a charming gesture.

He stood poised before her in the sand with his head a little to one side. The despair had gone out of his eyes over which a whimsical questioning now flitted, and she could see in the fading light that they seemed to be blue. But they were the most baffling eyes she had ever seen. She knew there was a great deal going on behind them, and she wondered if she would ever know even a fraction of what it was. She wondered what they would look like when he put love into them, for they were wonderful even when they were lit with polite interest.

“You don’t believe me,” she went on pertly.

“Well, let’s postpone a discussion of freedom. I take it that I may ride with you?”

“You certainly may.”

“Shall I help you up?”