"Well, you're the boss. It's your plant," said Mrs. Strong briskly.
"Alaska Spigg will go into hysterics when she hears where you've
put it,--but that's of no consequence."
And so the plant was placed on a small table in the window of the
long living-room.
"Link Pollock told us last night that you may go to Philadelphia to
join your son, Mrs. Strong," said he, as he watched her arranging
the window curtains.
Mrs. Strong flushed. "It did not occur to me to ask Mr. Pollock not
to repeat what I said to him in confidence," she said, with dignity.
"I'm sorry I mentioned it. I am sure Pollock didn't understand it
was--er--a secret or anything like that, Mrs. Strong."
"It isn't a secret. I have talked it over with Miss Alix, and I
have practically decided to remain with her. You may tell that to
Mr. Pollock if you like."
"She would miss you terribly," said he, allowing the sarcasm
to pass over his head. "Your son and Miss Crown were boy and girl
sweethearts, I hear,--oh, please don't be offended. Those things
happen, you know,--and pass off like all of the children's diseases.
Like the measles, or mumps or chicken pox. Every boy and girl has
to go through that stage, you know. I remember being horribly in
love with a girl in our block when I was fifteen,--and she with
me. But, for the life of me, I can't remember her name now.
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