There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously. It was the moment for smiles. "You are out betimes this morning, Mr. But, say we're friends. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl.
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