They aren't much fun anyhow when I can't talk their lingo." Mary straightened up, hammer in hand, and squinted her eyes thoughtfully, a way she had when something puzzled her.

It had not occurred to her that Norman had social longings like her own which Lone-Rock failed to satisfy.

He watched her anxiously.

That preoccupied squint always meant that interesting developments would follow.
"Norman Ware," she said, slowly, "I didn't give you credit for being a genius, but you are as great in one way as Emerson.

You've hit on one of his ideas all by yourself.