Then Rawdy shook a fat roll of bills in her face. “Look at here,” said he.
“The whole of it?”
“Every darned mill; my cerridges and the New Sanderson ones, too.”
“Well, now, ain't you glad you did the way I told you to?”
“Lord! he'd paid me, anyway,” declared Rawdy. “He's a gentleman. Women are always dreadful scart.”
“It's a pity men wasn't a little scarter sometimes,” said his wife.
Rawdy, grinning, tossed a bill to her. “Wa'n't you sayin' you wanted a dress?” said he.
“I ruther guess I do. I 'ain't had one for two years.”
“I guess I'd better git a silk hat to wear. I suppose I shall have to drive some of the Carrolls' folks,” said Rawdy, with a timid look at his wife. A silk hat had always been his ambition, but she had always frowned upon it.
“Well, I would,” said she, cordially.