The girl turned to Aunty May and said gravely:
"Milt couldn't get any bacon at the mill, Aunty."
The gaunt woman grunted and her eyes flashed.
"Tell him," she said, "that the baby trap needs a new stake an' I want it in by morning. I can't chase younguns all day long."
"Joe, the baby trap needs a new stake. Will you get it in tomorrow? " Helen asked.
"First" thing," promised Joe.
He waited a moment, then turned and went out.
Taylor looked at Helen and stole a swift glance at Aunty May. Nothing in their faces gave the key to this strange procedure. He stirred in his chair and smiled, and then attempted to start talk. He could not break the girl's reserve, however; he extended himself in the effort; she was coolly courteous, that was all. He could not make her respond and with his repeated failures his impulse to rouse her interest grew strong. He had the evening before him, he told himself; he would take her measure before he slept!
But there was no opportunity for that. When they left the table, Taylor lighted a cigarette and stood before the fire while the girl went to the telephone and for twenty minutes her talk was a jumble of queries, orders, comments which meant little to him: an inventory of lath was mentioned, the billing of cars of pulp wood, reference to a new band saw, memoranda hastily made, talk of a sick horse and regret that the man, Milt, must spend the night with the animal.
She hung up the receiver finally. She did not even look at Taylor but sat at the desk and lighted a student lamp which stood there.
