or anywhere you say," he promised, with some vague assurances about next summer. This had not pleased Carmelita. There had been a flash of her spoiled temper and Dudley had retreated behind his newspaper. He was such a stubborn man at times, she thought.
Upon the little table near Carmelita a small electric fan was assisting the window by cuffing up a little air and some dust. Carmelita looked up to find the obese and perspiring Laura standing in the kitchen doorway surveying the electric fan with an envious eye. Carmelita and Laura had had words lately and were not upon the best of terms.
"You know the thermometer to-day, Mrs. Drake?" Laura inquired, by way of an opening in a voice that fairly itched for trouble.
"I dare say it's simply spouting out of the top of the tube," Carmelita answered indifferently, dealing a final burnish to her thumb.
Laura mopped a glistening brow and delivered her thunder-stroke as casually as possible. "I've worked in lots of hot places 'round this town, Mis' Drake, but I ain't never worked in one as hot as this. Truth is I'm goin' to quit."
Carmelita dropped her manicuring tools abruptly and faced the deserter, ready at once to offer concessions. Laura was careless and insolent at times but she was competent and, at her incredulously low price, a life-saver.
