“But look here, it’s your lunch. I should have thought to get something at Seven Palms.”
“There’s a roast beef sandwich. Try that, and maybe you won’t feel so talkative.”
“Well, I—am—gumph—”
“What did I tell you? Oh, the Oasis aims to fill. Milk?”
“Ashamed of myself,” mumbled Eden. But he was easily persuaded.
“You haven’t eaten a thing,” he said finally.
“Oh, yes I have. More than I usually do. I’m one of those dainty eaters.”
“Good news for Wilbur,” replied Eden. “The upkeep won’t be high. Though if he has any sense, he’ll know that whatever the upkeep on a girl like you, it will be worth it.”
“I sent him your love,” said the girl.
“Is that so? Well, I’m sorry you did, in a way. I’m no hypocrite, and try as I may, I can’t discover any lurking fondness for Wilbur. Oddly enough, the boy begins to annoy me.”
“But you said—”
“I know. But isn’t it just possible that I’ve overrated this freedom stuff? I’m young, and the young are often mistaken. Stop me if you’ve heard this one, but the more I see of you—”
“Stop. I’ve heard it.”
“I’ll bet you have. Many times.”
“And my suggestion is that we get back to business. If we don’t that horse of yours is going to eat too much Bermuda grass.”
Through the long afternoon, amid the hot yellow dunes, the wind-blown
