shades of all the upper windows drawn. What sort of life went on in such places out of season he had never before reflected; but that there was living of some sort was now before him, for the house was far from shut up, and wide-flung doors and windows of the lower story vigorously breathed of agitated dust.
While he looked a tall woman with a white cloth over her head and a broom in her hand came out on the piazza. Seeing Carron, she put her hand to the cloth with involuntary deprecation. There was surprise in the gesture, but no confusion at the sight of a stranger. Something in her way of looking at him suggested that strangers were more usual with her than friends. He took the half turn of the drive and drew up at the steps.
"Did you want to see—" she began, but her faded voice left the question hanging in the air, as if there was more than one person he might have wanted.
"Mr. Rader," he finished for her; and, at that, a fresh surprise was added to her query. He saw her look him over from his bare head to his boots; from the horse between the shafts to the rifles in the body of the runabout; knew she was classing him; knew, too, that this was something he couldn't do with her. He guessed she was the proprietor of this establishment, but this failed to class her among
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