She felt her own body stir, ready for more. “I can’t imagine what has come over you,” said her aunt. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. And the change, the change of attitude! The way all the old clingingness has been thrown aside is amazing. Somehow or other his reputation as a hardened and unassailable bachelor had won for him during the last few years a comparative immunity from attentions on the part of those women with whom he had been brought into contact. Goopes was convinced exercised an exceptionally purifying influence on the mind.
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