The result was that she,
reached the room of Betty Neal entirely out of breath; two hundred pounds
of fat, good-natured widowhood do not go with speed. She tossed open the
door without any preliminary knock and stood there very red with a clearly
defined circle of white in the center of each check. For a moment there was
no sound except her panting and Betty Neal stared wildly at her from above
her book.
"He's come!" gasped Mrs. Sommers.
"Who?"
"Him!"
As if this odd explanation made everything clear, Betty Neal sprang from
her chair and she grew so pale that every freckle stood out.
"Him!" she echoed ungrammatically.
Then: "Where is he? Let me downstairs."
But the widow closed the door swiftly behind her and leaned her comfortable
bulk against it.
"You ain't goin'," she asserted. "You ain't goin', leastways not till you
got time to think it over."
"I haven't time to think. I--he--"
"That was the way with me," nodded Mrs. Sommers, and her eyes were tragic.
"I went ahead and married Johnny in spite of everything, and look at me
now--a widder! No, I ain't sorry for myself because I was a fool.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200