The pasteboard boxes went to the floor in a clattering rush.

One containing washers broke open and the little metal rings rolled everywhere.

Mr.Winslow did not seem to mind.
"There!" he exclaimed, with evident satisfaction; "sit right down, ma'am." The lady sat as requested, her feet amid the hardware boxes and her hands upon the bench before her.

She was evidently very nervous, for her fingers gripped each other tightly.

And, when she next spoke, she did not look at her companion.
"Mr.Winslow," she began, "I--I believe--that is, Babbie tells me that--that last evening, when you and she were on your way back here in the boat, she said something--she told you something concerning our--my--family affairs which--which--" She faltered, seeming to find it hard to continue.