She turned around to find old Mary Otter staring at her open-mouthed while the turnovers in the frying-pan sent up a cloud of blue smoke.
"The cakes are burning!" stormed Bela. "What's the matter with you? All that good grease! Do I pay you to spoil good food? You gone crazy, I think!"
"Somebody else crazy I think me," muttered the old woman, rescuing the frying-pan.
Bela's boarders were not a very perspicacious lot, but when she came in again to serve the dinner the dullest among them became aware of the change in her. The lace collar and the rose in her belt were significant enough, but there was more than that.
Before she had been merely the efficient hostess, friendly to all—but sexless. Now she was woman clear through; her eyes flashed with the consciousness of it, there was coquetry in every turn of her head, and a new grace in every movement of her body.
The effect on the company was not a happy one. The men lowered jealousy on Sam. The atmosphere became highly charged. Only Sam's eyes lighted with pleasure.
Sam, Bela pointedly ignored. It was on Joe that she bestowed all her smiles. No one present was deceived by her ruse excepting Joe himself, whose vanity was enormously inflated thereby. Sam's instinct told him that it was to himself her coquetry was addressed.
After the humiliations she had put upon him, it was deliciously flattering thus to see her in her own way suing for his favour. This made him feel like a man again. He was disposed to tease her.
"Hey, Bela!" he cried. "What kind of soup is this?"
"No kind," she retorted. "Jus' soup."