He refused. 48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. “It was a plot amongst them all to humiliate her. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. . But he had been forewarned by his great-nephew. Courtlaw opened his lips, but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture. ’ ‘People are silly. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. “So tell me what happened, all of it! I saw roses!” Shari exclaimed. Or else—Else it will be impossible that I can be his friend. .
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