” She smiled at him cheerfully. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. F. I’ve already been accepted to a couple of schools out east. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there.
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