“You see, Vee,” said Mrs. You would want me to be clean, if you gave me a thought, that is. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. Wood started to his feet. She laughed. Feels as if I’ve been dashing back and forth about the whole country, if you want to know.
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