” “Perhaps you remember me, Miss Pellissier,” the second young man interposed. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. Whilst she was wondering how to frame her request for an advance, Mr. Seems as she don’t trust soldiers easy. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. 1.
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