peach, and the others beginning to go—Evelyn must eat it. "You've given me all the heart of the lettuce, Mrs. Green!" And Kate, eating the large limp outside leaves, would say, "I like these every bit as well." There were unstrained moments of laughter and loving-kindness between them, but most of the time they were on their guard with each other. "How wonderfully Kate Green and Joe's wife get on together," people said, watching the two women speaking to each other through their smiling masks.
Then there was poor old Carrie, oozing sentiment until Evelyn felt sticky. She and Joe couldn't look at each other without Carrie yearning toward them with understanding smiles.
And Aunt Sarah, poking and prying. But she only poked and pried into Evelyn's perfume bottles and cold-cream jar and the big box of marrons glacés Ralph Levinson had sent from New York. She didn't sniff and nibble at emotions.
Evelyn had tried to find a house that Joe could afford and she could bear to live in. Time after time J. Hartley Harrison escorted her to Colonial cottages and Mission bungalows.
"How does this strike your artistic eye, madame?"
"Oh, dreadful! Like a ticket booth for a Spanish bull fight!"
"Delicious! Good afternoon, Mrs. Pratt! Nice doggy, nice doggy! Well, then, he was a nice doggy"
