'These things must go somewhere, that is clear. I will find out the names and addresses of a hundred, say, who are in need of help. We will send off so many boxes; and you shall arrange what is to go in them.'
Wych Hazel folded her hands and looked up at him.
'OlafI never was tired in my life!At least, but once.'
'I thought I was tired five minutes ago,' said Rollo, 'but I have got over it.'
'I could think of pretty things enough to send,' Hazel went on. 'Do they want pretty things out there, I wonder? Good people here do not always like them, I think. But I never saw a missionaryor his wife.'
'Perhaps you did not look in the right place. You make your list, and I will get mine. We might send off a couple of hundred boxes, and put fifty dollars' worth of comfort in each. These things will all find a place somewhere.'
'Fifty dollars!' said Hazel opening her eyes. 'My dear friend, have you any idea how much one dress costs? Fifty dollars will not do much for two people.'
'I will shew you what can be done with fifty dollars. And give you your second lesson in economy. Where did you get that name for me?'
'Picked it up, one day when you ceased to be an enemy.'
'In some place where worn-out were lying about. Worn-out things are shabby.'