Now what was one to do with a man like that?
A man who laughed at refusals and mellowed with each passing snub!
"Telephone, Miss McCormick,"--the boy sang out from the booth. The
opening "Hello" was very short, but the voice changed oddly on the "Oh,
Ernestine." Her whole face softened. It was another Georgia now. "Why
certainly--I'll get them for you; you know I love to do things for you
down town, but my dear--what in the world do you want with flower seeds
this time of year?"--"Oh--I see; planted in the fall--but the flowers
that bloom in the spring--tra la."
They chatted for a little while and after Georgia had hung up the
receiver she sat there looking straight into the phone--her face as
dreamy as Georgia's freckled face well could be. "By Jinks,"--she was
saying to herself--"it _can_ be like that!" It was a most opportune time
for the paper bag man to telephone. He wondered why her voice was so
soft, and why there was not the usual plea about being too busy when he
asked her to meet him at the little Japanese place for a cup of tea.
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