"Indeed I'll take it." She laid it on her palm and looked at it with rapture. She fastened the fob in a buttonhole of her blouse, but removed it with a shake of the head. "I'll just keep it to look at, and only wear it with my black silk. It's out of place on this rusty alpaca."
"What a close-fisted old girl the Circus must—"
"Oh, hush, hush! She might hear you." Abby rose hastily. "Let us walk in the garden."
They sauntered between the now well-kept lawns and flower-beds and entered a long avenue of fig-trees. The purple fruit hung abundantly among the large green leaves. Miss Williams opened one of the figs and showed Strowbridge the red luscious pith.
"You don't have these over there."
"We don't. Are they good to eat this way?"
She held one of the oval halves to his mouth.
"Eat!" she said.
And he did. Then he ate a dozen more that she broke for him.
"I feel like a greedy school-boy," he said. "But they are good, and no mistake. You have introduced me to another pleasure. Now let us go and take a pull."