Now they moved toward the door, and Flora followed, red and perspiring.

Sylvia heard her say something to her father about the trust on the way to the gate, between the tall borders of box, and heard Martin's surly growl in response.
"Laying it onto the trust," Sylvia said to Henry--"such an awful thing as that!" Henry assented.

He looked aghast at the whole affair.

He seemed to catch a glimpse of dreadful depths of feminity which daunted his masculine mind.

"To think of women caring enough about dress to do such a thing as that!" he said to himself.