"And make allowances? He knows how poor we are and how busy I have to be."
"He does so, my dear. But, if it's goin' t' comfort you any, there's that corset cover you made me last Christmas. I ain't never wore it; I ain't dared to with all them trimmin's an' lace insertion, an' me s' bony here an' there. You can have it an' willin', my dear, an' then there's them—"
"Ann, you dear thing, as if I would!"
"Why not? That corset cover's a dream! An' then there's them—"
"Dear, I couldn't—I wouldn't! No, I'll go to him just as I am—he shall marry me just like I am—"
"An' that's a goddess!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, "yes, a young goddess—only, with more clo'es on, o' course. I'm glad as he's quit peanuts; peanut men don't kind o' jibe in with goddesses."
"Ann," said Hermione, sitting back on her heels, "I think of him a great deal, of course, and—just lately—I've begun to wonder—"
"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, blowing her tea, "so do I! I been wonderin' ever since he walked into my flat, cool as I don't know what, an', my dear, when I sets me mind t' wonderment, conclusions arrive—constant! I'll tell ye what I think. First, he ain't s' poor as he seems—he wears silk socks, my dear. Second, he's been nurtured tender—he cleans them white teeth night an' morn. Third, he ain't done no toil-an'-spinnin' act—take heed t' his hands, my dear. He's soft-spoke but he's masterful. He's young, but he's seen a lot. He ain't easy t' rile, but when he is—my land! He don't say a lot, an' he don't seem t' do much, an' yet—he don't seem t' starve none. Result—he may be anything!"
"Anything? Ann, dear!"
"Anything!" repeated Mrs. Trapes. "An' havin' studied him good an' heeded him careful, I now conclood he's jest the thing you need, my dear."