The young face seemed curiously worn and haggard in the clear afternoon light.
"You--you don't really feel very well, do you, Dale ?" "Oh--it's nothing.

I feel all right--really." "I could send for Doctor Wells if--" "Oh, heavens, no, Aunt Cornelia." She managed a wan smile.

"It isn't as bad as all that.

I'm just tired and the city was terribly hot and noisy and--" She stole a glance at her aunt from between lowered lids.
"I got your gardener, by the way," she said casually.
"Did you, dear?
That's splendid, though--but I'll tell you about that later.

Where did you get him ?" "That good agency, I can't remember its name." Dale's hand moved restlessly over her eyes, as if remembering details were too great an effort.