"Vinegar, mustard, pepper, salt," said the widow counting off the buttons of her coat, child fashion.
The bachelor looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"A little—ice," said the widow, gazing out over the park.
"Anything else?" persisted the bachelor.
The widow studied her muff musingly.
"Oh—I don't know," she said, doubtfully.
"Any—sugar?" demanded the bachelor.
The widow shook her head smilingly.
"No," she said, "I'm saving that for another——"