For her father--and of
course for her--to do this was quite proper, Louise thought. But not
for this young fisherman, who should be making his way in the world.
"Where is it getting you?" she demanded.
"Getting me?"
"Yes," she declared with vigor, yet coloring a little. "A man should
work."
"But I'm not idle."
"He should work to get ahead--to save--to make something of himself--to
establish himself in life--to have a home."
He smiled then and likewise colored. "I--I------A man can't do that
alone. Especially the home-making part."
"You don't suppose any of these girls about here--the nice girls, I
mean--want a man who is not a home provider?"
He laughed outright then. "Some of them get that kind, I fear, Miss
Grayling. Mandy Card, for instance."
"Are you planning to be another Milt Baker?" she responded with scorn.
"Oh, now, you're hard on a fellow," he complained. "I'm always busy.
And, fixed as I am, I don't see why I should grub and moil at
unpleasant things."
Louise shrugged her shoulders and made a gesture of finality.
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