Miss Frink’s lips twitched in her peculiar smile. “And you still had some life insurance from number one. You’re a fast worker, Adèle.”
At this the tears came.
“Now, don’t cry,” said Miss Frink impatiently. “You can do that later. I was wondering if you would care for a position in Ross Graham’s. I took Miss Duane away from the gloves, and I told them not to fill the place at once.”
The young widow’s angry breath caught in her throat, but she stammered meekly:
“And go on—living here?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be willing to do that, would you?” said Miss Frink reasonably.
“Would you want Miss Frink’s niece to be selling gloves in her store?”
“Ho!” exclaimed the other with a short laugh. “Miss Frink herself sold candy and cake and waited on table and was glad when she got a tip, and everybody in town knows it.”
Adèle’s cheeks burned again. “It would be foolish not to utilize my music,” she said. “Since you have no pride in the matter, no doubt there are movie theaters in Farrandale, and I can perhaps play in one.”