He is like a different man--just grinds away in
that dirty old Mill day after day, as if he were nothing more than a
common laborer who had to work or starve. In fact," she finished with
an air of triumph, "that is exactly what he says he is--simply a
laborer like--like Charlie Martin and the rest of them."
The Interpreter smiled.
"It was all very well for John and Charlie Martin to be buddies, as
they call it, during the war," she went on. "It was different over
there in France. But now that it is all over and they are home again,
and Captain Martin has gone back to his old work in the Mill where John
has practically become the manager, there is no sense in brother's
keeping up the intimacy. Really I don't wonder that father is worried
almost to death over it all. I suppose the next thing John will be
chumming with this Jake Vodell himself."
"I don't suppose you see much of your old friends the Martins these
days, do you, Helen?" said the old basket maker, reflectively.
She retorted quickly with an air, "Certainly not."
"But I remember, in the old-house days, before you went away to school,
you and Charlie Martin were--"
She interrupted him with "I was a silly child. I suppose every girl at
about that age has to have her foolish little romance.
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