III
Kennicott was yawning, stretched in the largest chair,
between the radiator and a small kerosene stove
Cautiously, "Will dear, I wonder if the people here don't
criticize me sometimes? They must. I mean: if they ever do,
you mustn't let it bother you."
"Criticize you? Lord, I should say not. They all keep
telling me you're the swellest girl they ever saw."
"Well, I've just fancied— The merchants probably think
I'm too fussy about shopping. I'm afraid I bore Mr. Dashaway
and Mr. Howland and Mr. Ludelmeyer."
"I can tell you how that is. I didn't want to speak of it
but since you've brought it up: Chet Dashaway probably
resents the fact that you got this new furniture down in the
Cities instead of here. I didn't want to raise any objection at
the time but— After all, I make my money here and they
naturally expect me to spend it here."
"If Mr. Dashaway will kindly tell me how any civilized
person can furnish a room out of the mortuary pieces that he
calls—" She remembered. She said meekly, "But I understand."
"And Howland and Ludelmeyer— Oh, you've probably
handed 'em a few roasts for the bum stocks they carry, when
you just meant to jolly 'em. But rats, what do we care!
This is an independent town, not like these Eastern holes
where you have to watch your step all the time, and live up
to fool demands and social customs, and a lot of old tabbies
always busy criticizing. Everybody's free here to do what he
wants to." He said it with a flourish, and Carol perceived
that he believed it. She turned her breath of fury into a
yawn.
"By the way, Carrie, while we're talking of this: Of course
I like to keep independent, and I don't believe in this business
of binding yourself to trade with the man that trades with
you unless you really want to, but same time: I'd be just
as glad if you dealt with Jenson or Ludelmeyer as much as
you ran, instead of Howland & Gould, who go to Dr. Gould
every last time, and the whole tribe of 'em the same way.
I don't see why I should be paying out my good money for
groceries and having them pass it on to Terry Gould!"
"I've gone to Howland & Gould because they're better, and
cleaner."
"I know. I don't mean cut them out entirely. Course
Jenson is tricky—give you short weight—and Ludelmeyer is
a shiftless old Dutch hog. But same time, I mean let's keep
the trade in the family whenever it is convenient, see how I
mean?"
"I see."
"Well, guess it's about time to turn in."
He yawned, went out to look at the thermometer, slammed
the door, patted her head, unbuttoned his waistcoat, yawned,
wound the clock, went down to look at the furnace, yawned,
and clumped up-stairs to bed, casually scratching his thick
woolen undershirt.
Till he bawled, "Aren't you ever coming up to bed?" she
sat unmoving.