I wore a brown sweater vest with pearl buttons ... corduroy trousers ...
black oxfords ... a flowing tie....
A large log fire welcomed my former Kansas friend.
"Well, Johnnie, it's been a long time since I've seen you."
"Jerome, let me introduce you to the only woman that ever lived, or
shall live, for me ... Hildreth Baxter."
As Hildreth gave Miller her hand, I could see that he liked her, and
that he inwardly commented on my good taste and perhaps said to himself,
"Well, Johnnie is not so crazy after all!"
After I had given him the interview, he asked her a few questions, but
she begged to be left out, that it was my interview.
"Mr. Miller, you are a friend of Johnnie's ... I have often heard him
speak highly of you; can't you dissuade him from having this interview
printed ... no matter if you have been sent by your paper all the way
down here for it?"
Jerome liked what Hildreth had said, admired her for her common sense.
He offered to return to the city, and risk his job by stating that he
had been hoaxed.
"I will leave you to argue it out with him, Mr. Miller." And Hildreth
excused herself and went off down the path to the Ronds' too.
"Johnnie," my friend urged, putting his hand on my shoulder, "your
little lady has a lot of sense ... it _will_ kick up a hell of a row ...
it's true what you say about them rather approving of you now, some of
them, considering you a sly dog and so forth.
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