To Queed's great perplexity, she stood there looking out for
some time, her back toward him. Soon it came into his mind that she
meant to indicate that their interview was over, and this attitude
seemed extremely strange to him. He could not understand it at all.
"I fear that you have failed to follow me, after all," he called after
her, presently. "This was the point--as to what form the gift should
take--upon which I wanted a woman's advice."
"I understand." She came back to him slowly, with bright eyes. "I know
it would please Fifi very much to have a gift from you. Had you thought
at all, yourself, what you would like to give?"
"Yes," he said, frowning vaguely, "I examined the shop windows as I came
down and pretty well decided on something. Then at the last minute I was
not altogether sure."
"Yes? Tell me what."
"I thought I would give her a pair of silk mitts."
Sharlee's eyes never left his, and her face was very sweet and grave.
"White silk ones," said he--"or black either, for that matter, for the
price is the same."
"Well," said she, "why did you select mitts, specially?"
"What first attracted me to them," he said simply, "was that they came
to precisely the sum I had planned to spend: seventy-five cents.
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