“Hello, deary,” the woman greeted her, stepping aside for her to enter. “Did Ernst bring you to buy something?”
“He spoke of silk stockings,” Penny returned cautiously. “I’m not sure that I’ll care to purchase them.”
“Oh, you will when you see them, deary,” Ma Harper declared in a chirpy tone. “Just come in and I’ll show them to you.”
“Aren’t genuine silk stockings hard to get now?”
“I don’t know of any place they can be bought except here. I was lucky to lay in a good supply before the start of the war. Only one or two pairs are left now, but I’ll let you have them, deary.”
“That’s very kind of you,” returned Penny with dry humor.
“The stockings cost me plenty,” went on the woman, motioning for the girl to seat herself on a sagging davenport. “I’ll have to ask five dollars a pair.”
She eyed Penny speculatively to note how the figure struck her. Penny had no intention of making a purchase at any price, but to keep the conversation rolling, she pretended to be interested.
“Five dollars ain’t much when you consider you can’t get stockings like these anywhere else,” the woman added. “Just wait here, deary, and I’ll bring ’em out.” She went quickly from the room.
Left alone, Penny gazed with curiosity at the crude furnishings. Curtains hung at the windows, but they had not been washed in many months. The rug also was soiled and threadbare. The main piece of furniture, a table, stood in the center of the room.