He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. He did not love Ruth. All about her, hither and yon, lay the enticing Unknown. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. “I’ll ruin your suit. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. Maggot. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest.
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