I can't jest say.
But anyways he's the big feller to-night, an' it's up to you to worry
out so you can be a credit to him, an' me, an' the 'Obar.'" Then he
came across to her and took her affectionately by the shoulders, and
gazed down into her face with twinkling, kindly eyes. "Say, you got
more to work on than most gals. You sure have, Nan. Yep. Your poor
ma was a pictur', an' you're a pictur'. An' I ain't goin' to say which
of you had claim for the best framing. Anyway, what you have in your
pretty face you owe to the dear woman who never had a chance of the
framing you can have. So jest remember it, Nan--and thank her."
Nan's eyes had completely sobered at the mention of her dead mother,
whom she scarcely remembered, and earnestness and affection replaced
all her mirth.
"Maybe I owe it her," she said, suddenly releasing herself from the
heavy hands, and rising from her seat. Then she reached up and slipped
her soft arms about the man's neck. "And what do I owe to you?
Nothing? Ah, my Daddy, I guess you can shake your funny head till you
muss up its contents to an addle.
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