CHAPTER XVI
MURDONG drifted out, pulling his oars, little understanding the adventure of the night. He was glad that he did not know why Delia had visited him, kissed him, and sent him packing, because the uncertainty and womanliness of it fed his imagination, which took fire and filled him with conflagration. Surely Old Mississip' loves a romance.
With the kisses warm upon his lips, the tart statement Delia had made, for the benefit of Mrs. Mahna, left no wound in his heart. Far from it. It showed that G. Alexander Murdong was possessed of a secret in common with Delia, and Delia was one with whom it was joy and delight and extravagance to have a confidence.
"She'll meet me down at Salem Landing, or in Spanish Moss Bend, in middle January," he whispered to himself. "That'll be some meeting. Gee! If only I could write sonnets and do good poetry. Little weak stuff like mine'd sound silly down here on Old Mississip'."
Thus he mused, and leaning on the sweeps of his boat, he looked unafraid into the dark bend. His
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