He repeated his story of the accident, and she was sympathetic in a pleasant homely way.
“You are quiet today,” she said as they sat down to tea.
“Meditatious,” said Mr. Polly.
Quite by accident he touched her hand on the table, and she answered his touch.
“Why not?” thought Mr. Polly, and looking up, caught Mrs. Larkins’ eye and flushed guiltily. But Mrs. Larkins, with unusual restraint, said nothing. She merely made a grimace, enigmatical, but in its essence friendly.
Presently Minnie came in with some vague grievance against the manager of the carpet-making place about his method of estimating piece work. Her account was redundant, defective and highly technical, but redeemed by a certain earnestness. “I’m never within sixpence of what I reckon to be,” she said. “It’s a bit too ’ot.” Then Mr. Polly, feeling that he was being conspicuously dull, launched into a description of the shop he was looking for and the shops he had seen. His mind warmed up as he talked.
“Found your tongue again,” said Mrs. Larkins.
He had. He began to embroider the subject and work upon it. For the first time it assumed picturesque and desirable qualities in his mind. It stimulated him to see how readily and willingly they accepted his sketches. Bright ideas appeared in his mind from nowhere. He was suddenly enthusiastic.
