Her lips
seemed suddenly dry, and she moistened them a little with her tongue.
"Why, I presume so... from what she said.... Didn't you know?"
"Why should I know?"
Ally did not answer. She bent above the blouse, and began picking out a
basting thread with the point of the scissors.
"Why should I know?" Charity repeated harshly.
"I didn't know but what... folks here say she's engaged to Mr. Harney."
Charity stood up with a laugh, and stretched her arms lazily above her
head.
"If all the people got married that folks say are going to you'd have
your time full making wedding-dresses," she said ironically.
"Why--don't you believe it?" Ally ventured.
"It would not make it true if I did--nor prevent it if I didn't."
"That's so.... I only know I seen her crying the night of the party
because her dress didn't set right. That was why she wouldn't dance
any...."
Charity stood absently gazing down at the lacy garment on Ally's knee.
Abruptly she stooped and snatched it up.
"Well, I guess she won't dance in this either," she said with sudden
violence; and grasping the blouse in her strong young hands she tore it
in two and flung the tattered bits to the floor.
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