Take
it off. I can put a new piece of lining-silk in there for you in ten
minutes." She disappeared into her work-room with the vest, leaving me to
confront the Pole, who stood against the door like a wooden figure. He
folded his arms and glared at me with his excitable, slanting brown eyes.
His head was the shape of a chocolate drop, and was covered with dry,
straw-colored hair that fuzzed up about his pointed crown. He had never
done more than mutter at me as I passed him, and I was surprised when he
now addressed me.
"Miss Lingard," he said haughtily, "is a young woman for whom I have the
utmost, the utmost respect."
"So have I," I said coldly.
He paid no heed to my remark, but began to do rapid finger-exercises on
his shirt-sleeves, as he stood with tightly folded arms.
"Kindness of heart," he went on, staring at the ceiling, "sentiment, are
not understood in a place like this. The noblest qualities are ridiculed.
Grinning college boys, ignorant and conceited, what do they know of
delicacy!"
I controlled my features and tried to speak seriously.
"If you mean me, Mr. Ordinsky, I have known Miss Lingard a long time, and
I think I appreciate her kindness. We come from the same town, and we grew
up together."
His gaze traveled slowly down from the ceiling and rested on me. "Am I to
understand that you have this young woman's interests at heart? That you
do not wish to compromise her?"
"That's a word we don't use much here, Mr.
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