“You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. ‘But I don’t trust you an inch. Let—it—fall. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. “Think of what people will say!” That became a refrain. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. While the girl kept the patient from dwelling upon his misfortunes, whatever these were, he himself would have to keep the girl from brooding over hers. ” The truth prevailed.
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