"Perhaps you're right," she admitted.
"I know how you feel about it," he went on, "but I hope you won't let
her distress you. It doesn't make a bit of difference to me; she's only
amusing. Please don't bother about it."
"I won't," said Ruth, "that is, I'll try not to."
They piled the dishes in the sink, "as a pleasant surprise for Hepsey,"
he said, and the hours passed as if on wings. It was almost ten o'clock
before it occurred to Winfield that his permanent abode was not Miss
Hathaway's parlour.
As they stood at the door, talking, the last train came in. "Do you
know," said Winfield, "that every night, just as that train comes in,
your friend down there puts a candle in her front window?"
"Well," rejoined Ruth, sharply, "what of it? It's a free country, isn't
it?"
"Very. Untrammelled press and highly independent women. Good night, Miss
Thorne. I'll be up the first thing in the morning."
She was about to speak, but slammed the door instead, and was displeased
when she heard a smothered laugh from outside.