It is a curious thing, when you come to think of it, that the prettiest girls often stop opposite dark shop fronts where there is apparently nothing to interest them, and pass by others all aglow with the blanched whiteness of female frilleries. There is some unexplained optical problem here. The matter has been mentioned to Miss Tennant, but she says that she does not know the reason. She adds that it is all nonsense. Perhaps, after Professor Tait has found out all about the flight of the golf-ball, he will give some attention to this question. He can obtain statistics and facts on any well-frequented street by keeping to the shady side.
So Celie stood a moment—only a moment, and was then quite ready to turn away, assured in mind and at peace with all men—with the doubtful exception of Mr. Donald Iverach.
Her bonnet was indeed "straight on." But she gave her foot a little stamp when she thought of the junior partner.
"The idea!" she said.
But she did not condescend to expound the concept which troubled her, so that an idea it has ever since remained, and indeed must be left as such.
Then Celie became conscious that some one was gazing at her—not a woman, of course. She turned. It was only Cleg Kelly. But she was glad to see even him, for, after all, one does need some support even in well-doing. It is so difficult to be independent all by one's self.
"Where are you going, Cleg?" she said.
"To the penny shows aff o' the Easter Road," replied Cleg.
"Will you take me, Cleg?" said Celie, with a sudden clearing of her face, her eyes beginning to blaze with excitement.