neath. "Ex Libris," he spelled out. This, he decided, had no meaning, but there was a name below. He spelled it: "Matthew Beman."
The old man, it was clear, was Mrs. Markyn's grandfather, the one who made the feud—whatever that might be—with the first Jeffrey Markyn about a "corner." But Peewee forgot this temporarily in thinking excitedly how often Mrs. Markyn must come to her grandfather's house. What would she think of him when she saw him in his new clothes and with shoes which had no holes in them? She might hardly know him. He went to the window to look out along the street in the direction which he thought that she might come, but she did not come that day.
At dark the negro, Burtin, came and got him and took him downstairs to eat. He ate at a table with the servants, sitting next to Burtin, and regarding the old colored man reflectively between his bites.
"What is a corner?" he inquired at last.
The negro considered in surprise. "A cohneh?"
"I thought you knew about Mr. Beman."
