Across a generous ledge of veranda, more vines grew quite furiously, reaching their height and then growing down upon themselves. Behind those vines, and so cunningly concealed by them that not even the white wrapper could flash through to the passerby, Mrs. I.W. Goldstone, in a chair that would rock rhythmically with her, loved to sit in the first dusk of evening, pleasantly idle. A hose twirling on the lawn spun up the smell of green, abetted by similar whirlings down the wide vista of adjoining lawns. Occasionally, a prideful and shirt-sleeved landed proprietor wielded his own hose, flushing the parched sidewalk or shooting spray against hot bricks that drank in thirstily. As Mrs. Goldstone rocked she smiled, tilting herself backward off the balls of her feet. The years had cropped out in her suddenly, surprisingly, and with a great deal of geniality. The taffy cast to her hair had backslid to ashes of roses. Uncorseted and in the white wrapper, she was quite frankly widespread, her hips fitting in tight between the chair-arms, and her knees wide. A screen door snapped sharply shut on its spring, Mr. I.W. Goldstone emerging. There was a great rotundity to his silhouette, the generous outward curve to his waist-line giving to his figure a swayback erectness, the legs receding rather short and thin from the bay of waistcoat. "Hattie?" "Here I am, I.W." "I looped up the sweet-peas." "Good!" He sat down beside her, wide-kneed, too, the smooth top of his head and his shirt sleeves spots in the darkness. "Get dressed a little, Hattie, and I'll get out the car and ride you out to Forest Park Highlands." She slowed, but did not cease to rock. "It's so grand at home this evening, I.W. I'm too comfortable to even dress myself." He felt for her hand in the gloom; she put it out to him. "You huck home too much, Hattie." "I guess I do, honey; but it's like I can never get enough of it. The first year I was a home body, and the second and third year I'm two of 'em." "That's something you'll never hear me complain of in a woman. There's a world of good in the woman who loves her home." "It's not that, I.W. It's because I--I never dreamed that there was anything like this coming to me. To live around in rooms, year in and year out, in the lonesomest town in the world, and then, all of a sudden, a home of your own and a hubby of your own and a daughter of your own, why--I dunno--sometimes when I think of them days it's like life was a big red devil with horns and a tail that I'd got away from. Why, if it was to get me again, I--I dunno, honey, I dunno--I--just--dunno." "You're a good woman, Hattie, and you deserve all that's coming to you. I wish it was more." "And you're a good man--they don't come no better." "I'm satisfied with my bargain." "And me with mine, honey, if--if you don't mind the talk." "S-ay, this town would talk if you cut its tongue out." "You're my nice old hubby!"