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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"


"You say you'll come round and settle later? I've heard that pretty
often too. Give me your address, and if you can't pay me I'll send the
bill to your folks.... What? I can't understand what you say.... That
don't suit you either? My, you're pretty particular for a girl that
ain't got enough to settle her own bills...." She paused, and fixed
her eyes on the brooch with a blue stone that Charity had pinned to her
blouse.
"Ain't you ashamed to talk that way to a lady that's got to earn her
living, when you go about with jewellery like that on you?... It ain't
in my line, and I do it only as a favour... but if you're a mind to leave
that brooch as a pledge, I don't say no.... Yes, of course, you can get
it back when you bring me my money...."
On the way home, she felt an immense and unexpected quietude. It had
been horrible to have to leave Harney's gift in the woman's hands, but
even at that price the news she brought away had not been too dearly
bought. She sat with half-closed eyes as the train rushed through the
familiar landscape; and now the memories of her former journey, instead
of flying before her like dead leaves, seemed to be ripening in her
blood like sleeping grain.


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