"There! off with you!" whispered Mrs. "Thanks. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. It’s only as if I’d begun to know you the day before yesterday or there-abouts. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. "I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked. Insulting cries became frequent and various, but for the most part she could not understand what was said. . She decided to go on, after a momentary halt. IX.
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