He insisted on buying this girl for two hundred mex. There was no light in the room; but, notwithstanding this, the young man did not fail to detect the buxom figure of Mrs. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked. ” “I suppose we are,” said Vee, rearranging the flowers in her hand. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home.
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