“Thinking of the way Gordon McCarroll had looked at her when he gave her that good-bye kiss. “Like a real friend,” she told herself, the rosy color stealing into her cheeks, her eyes bright with unexpected pleasure. There was a pleasant little smile on her sweet lips and her eyes were off at sea, her book lying in her lap with her fingers between the leaves keeping her place, when Mrs. Adams bore down upon her again and clumsily writhed herself into the vacant chair by her side. Rose wasn’t awar...e of what had happened until it was too late to escape, and her heart sank. Oh dear! Could it be that that was Mrs. Adams’ own chair? And would she have to endure her presence perhaps every time the old lady wanted to sit on deck? That would spoil a good many nice quiet hours upon which Rose had counted, for the woman talked incessantly. She just couldn’t keep still. Rose had found that out already. But perhaps she would go to sleep, and then it wouldn’t be so bad. She turned her disappointed gaze and gave a wan little smile, hoping to find Mrs.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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