OCR Text |
Show 22, Jeffries, Islamorada [Section 4] The Old Timer sat motionless near a window on the spare, wooden furniture of his time. Dorian Clayton went to the small formality of showing him the three photos and asked, but for a moment, they turned, with the parrot, to the bole in the common yard, to the unfamiliar warble of the occasional. "Nice, nice. . .very nice." Dory noticed the old man's eyes pause on the fair, girlish face that could be said to be something like hi s own. "Well what do you think." "Of course I haven't met the little one. . ." "What do I do?" "Okay it seems that they have you about where they want you. Oh well if it saves you from leading an unnatural life such as mine own. Marriage it will be then, along with all the holy vows. Very well, I say, for there never have been an extravagant number of legal-size females in the Florida Keys." "Old Timer, which is your choice." Dorian Clayton watched him so carefully, and with an admitted portion of vanity, reasoning that there'd be some esteem due to himself if the old man made just the sleepiest nod at the picture of his granddaughter. |