"What you want to know?" asked her friend.
He had fallen into homely ways of speech, to fit the time.
"You've done real well, ain't you?" asked Sabrina eagerly.
The senator nodded.
"I have, Bina," said he. "I have. I've made money, and I own a grown-up son. He's got all the best of me and the best of all of us, as far back as I can remember—and none of the worst. I'll send him down here to see you."
"He must be smart," said Sabrina. "I've read his book."
"You have? Didn't know there was a copy in town. Nobody else here has heard of it."
"I see it noticed in the paper. I sent for it. I never spoke of it to anybody. I guess I was pretty mean. Folks borrow books, an' then they don't keep 'em nice."
"Bina, you're a dear. They've been telling me how you take care of the whole town. Richmond Blake—he's a likely fellow; he'll get on—he said you were the prettiest woman in the township. Said his father told him you were the prettiest girl."
Sabrina's little capable right hand went out and drew the sheet over her blue draperies up to her chin.