took as a signal to observe the cousinship, and he advanced to be introduced to Mr. Krauss.
When Paul looked at Gritty again, his eyes told her that he accepted the situation as unquestioningly as Mr. Krauss had accepted the "cousin," but that he would not be answerable for his private conclusions. Gritty covered the awkwardness with a frank, ringing laugh.
"We can't talk here," said Paul. "Let's find a sitting-room."
He included Mr. Krauss in the invitation, and the three moved off, Gritty hanging on Paul's arm with an eagerness that warmed his heart.
In a deserted corner the trio found chairs. Mr. Krauss ordered drinks and offered Paul a cigar. As briefly and sketchily as possible, Paul satisfied Gritty's curiosity as to his activities during the last twelve years, then demanded an account from her.
"But I don't even know where to begin!" she exclaimed.
"Begin at Hale's Turning. When did you leave?"
"As soon as I was able to bully my folks into letting me go to Boston."
"What did you do there?"
"Made cocoa and dusted the mantlepiece every day for a cousin of Ma's who kept telling me what things were like when she was a little girl. Gee! They were terrible! Then I went out and got a job in a dry-goods store—cash-girl, Cash! Cash! And was never around when they wanted me!"
"Then what?"
"Ran away to New York."
"Why?"
"I was lured there, dearie." She peeked up at him and laughed.
"And then?"
"I worked for a dressmaker who made clothes for a
