She lifted the last of the bulbs into the basket, and rose to her feet.
"Won't you sit here and talk to me a little?... I almost never have a chance to talk to you alone—that's why we don't know one another better."
She looked at him and smiled faintly, but the shadow of sadness and weariness did not lift from her face.
"I have some things to see to in the house—and then I must dress—"
"But it's hardly five now."
"Yes."
She sat down on the bench, brushing the dust off her black cloak.
"I like," said Lavery discontentedly, "to be friendly with people. I don't like to be held off at arm's length and looked at as if I were a queer beetle or something—or not looked at, that's even worse!"
"Do you think I do that?" Mary enquired.
"Yes, you do! You treat me as if I were hardly a human being!"