From the store came a mingling of odors of fruit, of spices, of freshly ground coffee.

"Susan's an awful pretty girl, isn't she ?" declared Sam with rude enthusiasm.
"Indeed she is," replied Ruth as heartily--and with an honest if discouraged effort to feel enthusiastic.
"What a figure! And she has such a good walk.

Most women walk horribly." "Come on to Vandermark's with me and I'll stroll back with you," offered Ruth.

Sam was still gazing into the store where, far to the rear, Susan could be seen; the graceful head, the gently swelling bust, the soft lines of the white dress, the pretty ankles revealed by the short skirt--there was, indeed, a profile worth a man's looking at on a fine June day.

Ruth's eyes were upon Sam, handsome, dressed in the Eastern fashion, an ideal lover.