Manage, I'll say she can manage, not
to mention managing to snake John Gilman right out of Marian's
fingers. I doubt if Marian fully realizes yet that she's lost
her man; and I happen to know that she just plain loved John!"
The second boot landed beside the first, then Linda picked them
both up and started toward the back hall.
"Honey, are ye too bad hurt to help me any?" asked Katy, as she
passed her.
"Of course not," said Linda. "Give me a few minutes to take a
bath and step into my clothes and then I'll be on the job."
With a black scowl on her face, Linda climbed the dingy back
stairway in her stocking-feet. At the head of the stairs she
paused one minute, glanced at the gloom of her end of the house,
then she turned and walked to the front of the hall where there
were potted ferns, dainty white curtains, and bright rugs. The
door of the guest room stood open and she could see that it was
filled with fresh flowers and ready for occupancy. The door of
her sister's room was slightly ajar and she pushed it open and
stood looking inside. In her state of disarray she made a
shocking contrast to the flowerlike figure busy before a dressing
table. Linda was dark, narrow, rawboned, overgrown in height,
and forthright of disposition. Eileen was a tiny woman,
delicately moulded, exquisitely colored, and one of the most
perfectly successful tendrils from the original clinging vine in
her intercourse with men, and with such women as would tolerate
the clinging-vine idea in the present forthright days.
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