"Oh, I wasn't making suggestions," William King said. "I guess we're not the people to bring up a child. I'd spoil him, I've no doubt."
"I'm sure you would!" Martha said, greatly relieved. "It would be the worst possible thing for him. But Willy, there's that Mrs. Richie?"
"You think his evil tendencies wouldn't hurt her?" the doctor said dryly.
"I think she's a rich woman, so why shouldn't she do a thing like that? I'll go and see her if you want me to—though she never makes you feel welcome; and tell her about the boy?"
"You needn't bother; Dr. Lavendar will see her himself."
"I don't understand that woman," Mrs. King said. "She keeps herself to herself too much. It almost looks as if she didn't think we were good enough to associate with her!"
William made no reply.
"Willy, does she use perfumery?"
"How in the world should I know!"
"Well, there's a sort of fragrance about her. It isn't like cologne, it's like—well, orris-root."