"Yes, there are stores, in the village," he went on, "but isn't it a holiday, or Sunday—perhaps—or something of the kind?"
"It's Decoration Day," she reminded him, with deepening surprise.
"So it is! And all the storekeepers have gone on picnics in their automobiles, or else they're playing golf. Nobody's working today."
"But you—aren't you working?" she inquired.
"Working?" he repeated. "I suppose some people would call it work. I—I hadn't thought of it in that way."
"You mean—you like it," Janet was inspired to say.
"Well, yes," he confessed. "I suppose I do."
Her cheeks dimpled. If her wonder had increased, her embarrassment had flown, and he seemed suddenly an old acquaintance. She had, however, profound doubts now of his being a carpenter.
"Were you thinking of going shopping?" he asked, and at the very ludicrousness of the notion she laughed again. She discovered a keen relish for this kind of humour, but it was new to her experience, and she could not cope with it.
"Only to buy some crackers, or a sandwich," she replied, and blushed.