"When he give up the nuts," pursued Mrs. Trapes, draining the teapot and
sighing, "he tells me some fool tale of makin' a deal in real estate,
an' I--ha, real estate!" Mrs. Trapes put down the teapot with a jerk.
"A deal in real estate!" she repeated, and thereafter fell to such
unintelligible mutterings as "Record price! Fab'lous! No, it couldn't
be! An' yet--silk socks! 'On an' after above date all tenants soever
residin'--will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!'" Suddenly Mrs. Trapes
sat bolt upright. "My land!" she ejaculated, "oh, dear land o' my
fathers--if sech could be!"
"Why, Ann," exclaimed Hermione, roused from her reverie, "whatever is
the matter?"
"My dear," said Mrs. Trapes, laying gentle hand on Hermione's blooming
cheek, "nothin'--nothin' 't all! I'm jest goin' over in my mind sich
small matters as silk socks an' toothbrushes, that's all."
"But you do mean something--you always do."
"Well--if I do this time, my dear, I'm crazy--but the Bowkers have gone,
mind that! An' him s' fond o' little Hazel!" Here Mrs.
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