“Yes,” observed Miss Abercrombie, moving toward something more definite. “Ever since the Governor’s garden party. All that was very queer ... very queer.”
Here again they found themselves halted by the immensity of the unspoken. Mrs. Harrison veered aside.
“The house has gone to ruin. Even the gate is hanging by one hinge. Nothing is kept up any longer.”
“Have you seen this lover of Irene’s?” asked Miss Abercrombie, calling a spade a spade and endeavoring to keep to one thing at a time.
“I’ve seen him once ... William pointed him out to me at the Mills. He’s one of the men who have been making trouble there.”
“Is he good looking?” asked Miss Abercrombie.
“Yes and no,” replied her companion.
“Well, what does that mean?”
“Well, he’s tall and has a handsome face ... a little evil perhaps. The real trouble is that I should call him common. Yes, common is the word I should use, decidedly common.”
Miss Abercrombie raised her eyebrows and smiled. “But, my dear, after all he is nothing but a workman.”