A sudden recollection came to him. From under the seat he brought forth a heavy, gray sweater.
“I forgot I had this with me. Put it on.”
“It’s a slip-on. I’ll have to take off my hat and coat to get into it.”
When she removed her soft, shabby, battered hat which she had worn well down over her eyes even while she slept, her hair, rippling bronze and golden lights, fell about her face and shoulders in semi-curls.
He helped her into the sweater.
“It’s sure snug and warm,” she said approvingly, as her head came out of the opening. “I won’t need my coat.”
“No; there’s no warmth in it,” he said, looking disdainfully at the thin, cheap garment. “Throw it away.”
“With pleasure,” she replied gaily. “Here’s to my winter garment of repentance.”
She flung the coat out on the road.
“What did you say?” he asked perplexedly.