this suggestion. "I expect you wouldn't think I'm a widower if you knew what'd happen to me if it got out that I was sittin' up here right now talkin' to as good-lookin' a woman as you are, Mrs. Mummero!"
At this she surprised and a little grieved the majority of the impromptu party by a laugh of frankest pleasure. "You are an extraordinary man, I see. When a woman says she exist' only to hear pleasant things, no matter how far from the fact, you are shrewd enough to believe she has told the simple, shameful truth. Yes, you are very extraordinary, Mr. Tinker."
"Think so?" he said, and he was modest enough to utter a deprecatory laugh. "I guess nobody'd have to be very extraordinary to say a good many of that kind of things to you!" Suddenly he sighed, but as with some physical reminiscence not to his taste; he passed a handkerchief over his forehead and set his untouched glass upon a tabouret. "Oh, dear me!" he murmured. "It don't look so good to-day. What I really need is a little fresh air."
"Why do you not go to take it?" Mme. Momoro asked him with a kindly solicitude.
He brightened, looking at her appreciatively. "I believe I would," he said, "if I could get anybody to
