Part 19 (2/2)
”Just what I expected,” muttered Mrs. Jones. ”He was in a beastly condition last night. I shall speak to Mr. Perkins about it. He had no right to take and get him in such a state.”
She was more incensed than ever when the gay young clerk came in looking perfectly fresh. ”He 's used to it,” she told herself, ”and it does n't tell on him, but it 's nearly killed that poor young man.”
”Hullo there, Brent,” said Perkins. ”You chucked me for good last night.
Did you lose your way, or was your 'character' too interesting?”
”Character too interesting,” was the laconic reply.
”And I 'll bet you 've been awake all night studying it out.”
”You are entirely right there,” said Brent, smiling bitterly. ”I have n't slept a wink all night: I 've been studying out that character.”
”I thought you looked like it. You ought to take some rest to-day.”
”I can't. I 've got to put in my time on the same subject.”
Mrs. Jones pursed her lips and bustled among the teacups. The idea of their laughing over their escapades right before her face and thinking that she did not understand! She made the mental observation that all men were natural born liars, and most guilty when they appeared to be most innocent. ”Character,” indeed! Did they think to blind her to the true situation of things? Oh, astute woman!
”Strange fellow,” said Perkins to his spoon, when, after a slight breakfast, Brent had left the table.
”There 's others that are just as strange, only they think they 're sharper,” quoth Mrs. Jones, with a knowing look.
”I don't understand you,” returned her boarder, turning his attention from his spoon to the lady's face.
”There 's none so blind as those who don't want to see.”
”Again I say, I don't understand you, Mrs. Jones.”
”Oh, Mr. Perkins, it 's no use trying to fool me. I know men. In my younger days I was married to a man.”
”Strange contingency! But still it casts no light on your previous remarks.”
”You 've got very innocent eyes, I must say, Mr. Perkins.”
”The eyes, madam, are the windows of the soul,” Perkins quoted, with mock gravity.
”Well, if the eyes are the soul's windows, there are some people who always keep their windows curtained.”
”But I must deny any such questionable performance on my part. I have not the shrewdness to veil my soul from the scrutiny of so keen an observer as yourself.”
”Oh, flattery is n't going to do your cause one mite of good, Mr.
Perkins. I 'm not going to scold, but next time you get him in such a state I wish you 'd bring him home yourself, and not let him come tearing in here like a madman, scaring a body half to death.”
”Will you kindly explain yourself? What condition? And who is 'him'?”
”Oh, of course you don't know.”
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