Darke Darrell, the Boy Detective — page 43: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

34 DARKE DARRELL. estly, unconscious that she was admitting all that Darke had sought to know. She pulled a handful of grass, and sifted it through her fingers; shapely little fingers they were, on one of which gleamed a small diamond ring. << Were you on your way to New York?” she asked. £6 Yes.” <¢You must go with me to our house.” ‘© No, Leotine.” «<T said must,” tightly shutting her hands, her tone ne itive, her eyes snapping. Darke looked steadily at her. She thrust her fingers into the wallet. ‘‘Here is Mr. Cassandra’s ticket,” holding it up. ‘* You can ride on that.” “‘T have a ticket. You called him father on the other occasions.” A fierce expression crossed her face. ‘“Don’t vex me!” half pleadingly, half warningly. «Don’t pry into my affairs, or I shall not like you, and I do like you very much—just now. Will you go home with me?” «Gallantry wouldn’t permit me to refuse,” Darke said. “Oh, how polished!” with a faint sneer. ‘‘ You might have said, ‘I shall be very happy to oblige you,’ ” following with a pettish exclamation in a language which Darke sus- pected to be Italian. She flashed him a sidelong glance, and wondered if she had offended him. ‘<7 don’t see why you should care to please me, though,” somewhat to herself. ‘‘ Would you have shot Tim Jordan?” ‘Dead as a nail,” answered Darke. She looked at him with admiration. ‘“Why didn’t you take the dirk when I handed it to you p”? ecomicbooks.com