Then,
too, just as she made up her mind to be angry she remembered
the limp and querulous Mrs. Fenger, and the valve and the
scarf. And her anger became pity. There flashed back to
her the illuminating bit of conversation with which
Fascinating Facts had regaled her on the homeward drive that
night of the tea.
"Nice chap, Fenger. And a wiz in business. Get's a king's
salary; Must be hell for a man to be tied, hand and foot,
the way he is."
"Tied?"
"Mrs. Fenger's a semi-invalid. At that I don't believe
she's as helpless as she seems. I think she just holds him
by that shawl of hers, that's forever slipping. You know he
was a machine boy in her father's woolen mill. She met him
after he'd worked his way up to an office job. He has
forged ahead like a locomotive ever since."
That had been their conversation, gossipy, but tremendously
enlightening for Fanny. She looked up at him now.
"Thanks for the vacation suggestion. I may go off
somewhere. Just a last-minute leap. It usually turns
out better, that way.
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