"A dimple will be a great handicap in my life."
"Great Jupiter!" said the young man softly. "Why, some girls I know would give—But we can't discuss dimples, just now, can we? What I began to say, before you took my breath away, was that I think I've solved the clothes problem. You know there's a town about ten miles to the north—the county seat—and it occurs to me that if I set out to-night, I can be back here early in the morning with everything you'll need. I don't believe they'll suspect me, even if they have happened to read that a refuge girl has escaped. I can buy the skirt in one store, the hat in another, and so on, pretending they're for my sister—or my wife."
Jean's refractory dimple deepened.
"Make it your mother," she advised. "Wives and sisters prefer to do their own shopping."
"Very well, then. If you will jot down the measurements and other technicalities, I'll manage it somehow. As for money," he added, perceiving her falter, "I will take care of that, too, if you'll allow me. You will naturally need a loan."
Jean swallowed a lump.