Till this night he had thought of her only casually, as merely a young girl; he was not now consciously in love with her--her young woman-hood had burst upon him too suddenly for such a consciousness--but a warm tingling went through him as he gazed at her imperious, self-confident youth.

Part of his mind was thinking much the same thought that Hunt had considered a few hours earlier: here were the makings of a magnificent adventuress.
"Maggie," he mused, "you didn't get your looks from your father.

You must have had a fine-looking mother." "I don't know--I never saw her," she returned shortly.
"Poor kid," Larry mused on--"and with only Old Jimmie for a father." She did not know what to say.

For a long time she had dreamed of this man as her hero; she had dreamed of splendid adventures with him in which she should win his praise.

And now--and now-- He switched to another subject.
"So you have decided to string along with your father and Barney ?" "I have." "Don't you do it, Maggie." "Don't you preach, Larry." "I'm not preaching.