The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. ” She turned and looked at him. " "Mr. It was Blueskin. Everybody, he felt, must be listening behind their papers. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. ” “You fellows,” Ennison said quietly, “are getting a little wild. I ——” He stopped short.
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