Jennette Lee

“ Batson tiptoed to the window and looked importantly out.
"We don't want to be seen talking together," he said cautiously, and Milly smiled at the far-off echo of the Corbin methods repeated with the muffled emphasis of Batson's expansive calm. . . . He looked to right and to left and he leaned forward and peered out through the window. A horn sounded among the trees.
"Maybe the new car," said Batson. Then his face lost interest.
"It's the mail, ma'am. Excuse me, please. I'll have to get it." ”

“ Years ago she had come on the discovery that nothing heartens a possible criminal like the chance to look you over first, and nothing is more likely to throw him off his guard. Whenever possible she presented a view of herself for deliberate inspection. She had learned, too, not to flash too sudden a look at a man when at last she turned to him. ”

“ Well, when they come out, they questioned me, up hill and down. And after that, as I told you, they kep' it up—having me in every day or two and tackling me. Of course the other servants got wind of it. You can't have men in, ripping up your carpets and measuring windows and running up and down stairs, without folks, getting to know something is up."
"But they did not discover anything?"
"Not so far as I know," said Batson. ”

“ Batson!" she cried softly. She held out her hand.
He took it in embarrassed friendliness.
"You are the last person—" she said.
"I hope I see you well, ma'am," responded Batson.
"Yes, thank you. How is Sadie?"
His stolid face lighted. "You should see her, Miss Newberry!" he said almost eagerly.
She nodded. "I should like to."
"She come out last week," went on Batson, "to see me and her mother. She's a new girl, Miss Newberry. She's got sense!"
Batson's hands spread themselves and laid the sense before her, largely.
"Good!" said Milly. "I always believed it would come." ”

“ He was always fond of his wife."
"‘Was'?" repeated Milly.
Batson looked a little embarrassed. "Well, ma'am, it seems a queer thing to say about the folks you're working for—and not being supposed to notice anything that goes on—but it does seem as if Mr. Mason had changed a good deal "
"How has he changed? What do you call changed?" asked Milly.
"Going to his room and shutting himself up—hours at a time," said Batson, "that's what I'd call changed. Why, it used to be—he couldn't bear to let her out of his sight, not hardly." ”

“ The father and mother treated her more like their own than most folks do. She had her little riding horse and clothes and about everything a girl could have."
"Jewelry?" asked Milly quietly. She had just turned the row and was adjusting her needle. She was not noticing him.
Batson regarded her slowly. "I don't know as I ever thought of that before—I don't believe she did have many jules. Mr. Mason was always buying 'em and giving 'em to his wife. She'd be wearing a new ring or pin or something every day or two. . . . ”