” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a sharp glance of disapproval. "Anything else?" "Your waistcoat.
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