Crozier, very precisely yet prettily dressed, entered.
"Please make yourself at home--no need to rap," answered Mrs. Tynan.
"Out in the West here we live in the open like. There's no room closed
to you, if you can put up with what there is, though it's not what you're
used to."
"For five months in the year during the past five years I've lived in a
house about half as large as this," was Mrs. Crozier's reply. "With my
husband away there wasn't the need of much room."
"Well, he only has one room here," responded Mrs. Tynan. "He never
seemed too crowded in it."
"Where is it? Might I see it?" asked the small, dark-eyed, dark-haired
wife, with the little touch of nectarine bloom and a little powder also;
and though she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, there was a look of
wistfulness in her eyes, a gleam of which Kitty caught ere it passed.
"You've been separated, Mrs. Crozier," answered the elder woman, "and
I've no right to let you into his room without his consent. You've had
no correspondence at all for five years--isn't that so?"
"Did he tell you that?" the regal little lady asked composedly, but with
an underglow of anger in her eyes.
"He told the court that at the Logan Trial," was the reply.
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