Her eyes followed him. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled. The dinner was stranger than she had ever anticipated. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. “I mean to,” she replied. “This is what comes of being a young woman up to date. But it was now too late to turn back, and, nerving himself for the shock he expected to encounter, he ventured after his conductor.
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