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 "Just as though any one could tell you by that," laughed Mae. "Are you going to Polly's?"

Laurie acknowledged that he was, and they went on together. "Isn't it too bad about that poor, dear little Miss Comfort?" asked Mae. "Polly told you, didn't she?"

Laurie nodded. "Yes," he answered. "Yes, it is too bad. At her age, too. Eighty-something, isn't she?"

"Why, no, of course not! The idea! She can't be a day over sixty-five."

"Oh!" Laurie sounded a trifle disappointed. "Well, that's different, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is," agreed Mae without, however, quite getting his point of view, "but it doesn't make it much easier for her, I guess."

"N-no." Laurie was acquiring something close to distaste for the subject. "Well, something may turn up," he added vaguely, "before the first of the month."

"I hope so," said Mae. But she didn't sound hopeful. Laurie was glad when she changed the subject with her next remark, although he could have chosen a more welcome one: "Polly says