Ina Deacon produced, fleetly, an unlooked-for dimple.
"Have you been buying flowers?" the master inquired.
"Ask Lulu," said Mrs. Deacon.
He turned his attention full upon Lulu.
"Suitors?" he inquired, and his lips left their places to form a sort of ruff about the word.
Lulu flushed, and her eyes and their very brows appealed.
"It was a quarter," she said. "There'll be five flowers."
"You bought it?"
"Yes. There'll be five—that's a nickel apiece."
His tone was as methodical as if he had been talking about the bread.