“Talk! Good Lord! Say, Dan, if I get to sleep and you notice Annette looking this way, nudge me, that's a good fellow.”
He settled himself in his chair and closed his eyes. Daniel turned to his wife.
“Serena,” he murmured. “Say, Serena, don't you think it is a queer-lookin' crowd? Seems to me I never saw such clothes or so many different kinds of hair. Look at that woman's skirt. It's tore all up one side.”
“Sshh! Don't speak so loud. That's the latest style.”
“What! THAT? Well, I—”
“Sshh! It's the latest style, I tell you. Haven't you seen the fashion magazines? All the new dresses are made that way.”
“Yours ain't.”
“Well, I—I'm not as young as that woman is.”
“You wouldn't wear a thing like that if you were as young as Gertie; and she wouldn't either, not if I saw it first. I never saw such folks as these at Trumet.”
“Of course you didn't. Trumet isn't Scarford. We are in society now, Daniel. We mustn't show our ignorance.”