"Fire makes a house awful hot in de summer time, enty? Look like you'd a heap rather be out in de field in de coolness. But it's gwine to rain, enty?"
"I like de hotness," Mary answered quickly, "I like to sweat a plenty. I can work in de field any time I get ready."
Cinder smiled steadily, but she looked older. Her eyes were deeper set and her skin had lost its shiny blackness. She had a string of red beads around her neck, gold earrings in her ears, and a gold ring on one finger. In spite of the scent of cooking food, the whole room smelled sweet from something about her; not Hoyt's German Cologne or essence of lemon or any of the perfumes Mary knew, but a strange new scent, that was delicate as the breath of crab-apple blossoms. Just as likely as not it came from some new charm Cinder got yonder in town to put a spell on the men here. She always knew some way to make the men take to her, although she was skinny and dry, and had a fox chin and squirrel teeth and a sly stepping walk like a cat.
A sudden flash of lightning made Cinder jump, and Mary looked straight at her mouth. "I'd be 'fraid so much gold an' silver would draw lightnin," she remarked.
