She turned her graceful little hand before his face. He noticed that she wore a gold bangle bracelet.
"You have a bracelet, too," he observed. "Where did you get that, Fawnie?"
She quickly hid her wrist in the folds of her dress and broke into a chuckling laugh. "I'll tell you some day. Not now. I'll tell you sometime when I want to make you laugh. But not now. Now I jus' want to sit still and get used to things. I'm pretty near scared o' this big room, and the pianner, and all the pictures starin' at me. Who's that fonny woman with the lace cap and mittens?"
"My great-grandmother."
"Is it put on with paint?"
"Yes. An oil painting."
"Oh. Where was it made?"
"In Devon."
"Is that near Halifax?"
"No. It's in England."
"I know where England is. It's up at a place where the king lives."
"Yes."
"I don' like the way she stares at us, do you?"
"Not exactly."
"What do you s'pose she's thinkin'?"
"Nothing very pleasant."
"No, nothing very pleasant. She's mad, I think, and jealous of me sittin' here in my yaller dress with a gold ring, and a gold bracelet, and a white veil, with a nice young man beside me. She wishes she could hop right out of that picture and tear us apart, eh?"
"Shouldn't be surprised."
"But you can't do it, ole lady, so jus' be good or I'll turn your face to the wall. . . . Put your head on my shoulder, Durek, you lock awful sleepy."
