She advised
me to try the Hands. No matter what you may think of me, there's only
one opinion to have of mother. And you can't object to meeting her.
You choose the cloak and I'll bring her to see you--in it."
Win kept her eyes on the assortment of silk motoring and dust coats
which she had arranged on the broad counter for Mr. Rolls's
inspection. Suddenly a great weight was lifted from her head, as if
kind hands had gently removed a tight helmet.
Would such a man as Ena Rolls had sketched in her shadow portrait of a
brother bring his mother to meet a shop girl whom he fancied? It
seemed not. Yet men of that type were the cleverest, as she already
knew. Maybe he didn't really mean to bring Mrs. Rolls. It would be
easy, from time to time, to postpone her visit. And Win was very
proud. She thought of Ena's annoyance at happening upon her in the
elevator, and how reluctantly Miss Rolls had taken up the cue of
cordiality from Lord Raygan. Oh, it was best--in any case--it was the
only way to keep personalities out of her intercourse with the man who
had once been Mr. Balm of Gilead.
"This silver gray is one of the prettiest of the new wraps," she
glibly advertised her wares.
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