"
Quin's ideas concerning a morning coat were extremely vague, and the
possibility of his procuring one vaguer still; but the occasion was too
portentous to admit of hesitation. He and Mr. Chester continued their
walk to the far end of the shed, and then stood looking down at the coal
cars being loaded from the yards.
"White gloves, I suppose?" observed Quin.
"Pearl gray, with very narrow stitching. I think that's better taste,
don't you?"
"Sure," agreed Quin. "Flower in the buttonhole, or anything like that?"
While this all-important detail was being decided, a clanging bell and
the hiss of an engine announced the incoming train. Before the two
waiting cavaliers could reach the gate, Eleanor Bartlett came through,
laden with wraps and umbrellas.
"I like the way you meet us," she called out. "For mercy sake, help me."
And she deposited her burden in Quin's outstretched arms. Then, as Mr.
Chester strode past them with flying coat-tails in quest of Miss Enid,
she burst out laughing.
"Say, you are looking great," said Quin, with devouring eyes, as he
surveyed her over the top of his impedimenta.
"It's more than you are." She scanned his face in dismay.
Pages:
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242