"
"Sure!" said Mickey. "If she had to set up housekeeping in Sunrise Alley
in one day you could tell her place from anybody else's. Sure, she's a
nice lady! But she has troubles of her own. I guess everybody has."
"Yes, I think they have," assented Douglas. "I could muster a few right
now, myself."
"Yes?" cried Mickey. "That's bad! Let's drop this and cut them out."
"Presently," said Douglas. "My head is so tired it will do me good to
think about something else a few minutes. You were saying Mrs. Harding had
trouble; what is it?"
Mickey returned to his subject with a chuckle.
"She was 'bout ready to tackle them nervous prostrations so popular with
the Swell Dames," he explained, "because every morning for fifteen years
she'd faced the brown oilcloth and pots and pans, while she'd been wild to
watch sunup from under a particular old apple tree; when she might have
seen it every morning if Peter had been on his job enough to saw a window
in the right place. Get that?"
"Yes, I get it," conceded Douglas.
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