Don't you worry about me, Sylvia.

Good-bye." Lucinda went her way.

She held her nice black skirt high, but her plodding feet raised quite a cloud of dust.

Her shoulders were thrown back, her head was very erect, the jetted ornament on her bonnet shone like a warrior's crest.

She stepped evenly out of sight, as evenly as if she had been a soldier walking in line and saying to himself, "Left, right; left, right.".