Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. ’ Gerald eyed her with interest. " "Very true," chuckled Jackson; "very true. That is what they think we are for!” “We’re beasts,” said Teddy. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. What was the wench at? Yet he could not maintain this stand off forever. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. ” “It wouldn’t be you either.
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