arranged coiffure could conceal. The veins on Mrs. Sewall's hands, moreover, were prominent and blue.
But for a tangle in the chain of Mrs. Sewall's glasses she would have left me with no sign of friendliness. It was when I passed her a small sample in a book, and she attempted to put on her glasses, that I observed the fine platinum cord was in a knot. I offered my services. I didn't suppose she would accept them. I was surprised at her cool, "Yes, if you will."
Mrs. Sewall was sitting down. I had to kneel to my task. The chain proved to be in a complicated snarl. My fingers trembled. I was very clumsy. I was afraid Mrs. Sewall would become exasperated. "Just a moment," I said, and looked up. Our eyes met. I was so close I could see the tiny network of wrinkles in the face above me. I could see the sudden tenderness in the eyes.
"It seems to be a particularly difficult snarl," I quavered, then bent my head and worked in silence for a moment. We were so near, we could hear each other breathe.
Suddenly in a low voice, almost a whisper, Mrs. Sewall asked, "Are you happy here?"
"Oh, so happy," I replied.
"Are you better? Are you well?" she pursued.
I dropped my hands in her lap, looked up, and nodded. I could not trust myself to speak. I knelt there in silence for a moment.
Finally I said, "Are you happy? Are you better? Are you well, dear Mrs. Sewall?"
