Then Young T.
A. turned about. He gazed at Emma McChesney, his eyebrows raised
inquiringly. Emma McChesney's honest blue eyes, with no translucent
nonsense about them, gazed straight back at T. A. Junior.
"I'm Mrs. McChesney. I got in half an hour ago. It's been a good
little trip, considering business, and politics, and all that. I'm
sorry to hear your father's still ill. He and I always talked over
things after my long trip."
Young T. A.'s expert eye did not miss a single point, from the tip of
Mrs. McChesney's smart spring hat to the toes of her well-shod feet,
with full stops for the fit of her tailored suit, the freshness of her
gloves, the clearness of her healthy pink skin, the wave of her soft,
bright hair.
"How do you do, Mrs. McChesney," said Young T. A. emphatically.
"Please sit down. It's a good idea--this talking over your trip. There
are several little things--now Kiser & Bloch, of River Falls, for
instance. We ought to be selling them. The head of their skirt and
suit department is named Stitch, isn't she? Now, what would you say of
Miss Stitch?"
"Say?" repeated Emma McChesney quickly.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142