He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. How you dress when you're loafing will be no concern of mine; but fresh twill or Shantung, when you dine with me, collar and tie. Another labyrinth in hell!" A smile broke over the trader's face. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. We’re regarded as inflammable litter that mustn’t be left about. “Prom committee does this, silly. “I suppose most people’s letters are queer. I may want you. "She has no secrets from me. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her.
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