"If it isn't settled to-day, I will tell you."
"Very good."
"These late asters are hardy things?"
"Yes. The rest of the poor beds are full of ghosts."
"Ghosts always stalk, don't they?"
He looked at her in concern. "You are upset," he said, and they both laughed.
She followed him about for an hour, talking, watching his exact, methodical movements. The early morning air was keen, in spite of the sun. When the postman appeared on the block she ran to the gate to meet him. He was an old friend, on the route ever since she could remember.
"Hello, Miss Bambi, you're early this morning," he called.
"I couldn't sleep for my sins. If you don't give me a letter, Mr. Ben, I'll scream."
"Go ahead!"