The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. “Oh, there’s no doubt of it! Since the girls of the eighties broke bounds and sailed away on bicycles—my young days go back to the very beginnings of that —it’s been one triumphant relaxation. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. I am apparently a beast, a pig and an imbecile, too, if memory serves me. . The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair.
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