He had taken her to Sherry's only once, to
see as part of a New York education the Sunday night crowd of
fashionable people. "If you like," said she.
Gideon beamed. He would be able to show off his prize! As
they drove away Susan glanced at the front parlor windows, saw
the curtains agitated, felt the three friendly, excited faces
palpitating. She leaned from the cab window, waved her hand,
smiled. The three faces instantly appeared and immediately hid
again lest Gideon should see.
But Gideon was too busy planning conversation. He knew Miss
Sackville was "as common as the rest of 'em--and an old hand at
the business, no doubt." But he simply could not abruptly
break through the barrier; he must squirm through gradually.
"That's a swell outfit you've got on," he began.
"Yes," replied Susan with her usual candor. "Miss Hinkle
borrowed it out of the stock for me to wear."
Gideon was confused. He knew how she had got the hat and
dress, but he expected her to make a pretense. He couldn't
understand her not doing it. Such candor--any kind of
candor--wasn't in the game of men and women as women had played
it in his experience. The women--all sorts of women--lied and
faked at their business just as men did in the business of
buying and selling goods. And her voice--and her way of
speaking--they made him feel more than ever out of his class.
He must get something to drink as soon as it could be served;
that would put him at his ease.
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