“Yes. Don’t draw it tight; leave it loose—so; but you can tie the knot tight. That will do; there!” She smiled broadly. “Don’t tie me in as if you were tying me in forever.”
Madame Zénobie understood perfectly, and, smiling in response, did tie it as if she were tying her in forever.
Half an hour or so later the quadroon, being—it may have been by chance—at the street door, ushered in a person who simply bowed in silence.
But as he put one foot on the stair he paused, and, bending a severe gaze upon her, asked:—
“Why do you smile?”
She folded her hands limply on her bosom, and drawing a cheek and shoulder toward each other, replied:—
“Nuttin’”—
The questioner’s severity darkened.
“Why do you smile at nothing?”
She laid the tips of her fingers upon her lips to compose them.