"Sometimes I think that is why he hates to part with a book. He keeps
a secondhand bookshop, you know, and he's positively insulting to
customers who try to buy any of the books. The old boy is really
queer in his head, but there's nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn't
hurt a flea, would he, Elinor?"
Mrs. Hale said doubtfully, no, she supposed not.
"Elinor didn't have a very good impression of him," laughed her
husband. "We're on our wedding trip, you know,"--he blushed slightly--
"and mother made us promise we'd stop in to see the old man. He
hasn't seen me since I wore knickerbockers, and we had a great time
making him understand who we were. Then he said that he hoped we
liked Washington, and went back to his reading."
"And the shop is so dirty!" shuddered the bride. "I don't think she
ought to go to such a place alone, John."
"I won't," promised Betty hastily. "If you'll let me have the
address, I'll be ever so grateful and it may be a great help to my
friend."
Young Mr. Hale wrote down the street and number on the back of the
brand-new visiting card his wife pulled from her brand-new purse, and
Betty thanked them warmly and turned to her card writing, leaving
them free to enjoy each other and the view to their hearts' content.
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