And
the man came for your furs this morning, and the awning place
telephoned that they would send a man out to measure the porches.
Mr. Bradley sent a man back from the station to ask you about
plants; but you were asleep, and I didn't like to wake you!"
It was always something. Just as Nancy thought that the household
expenses had been put behind her for a few days at least, a fresh
crop sprang up. A room must be papered, the spare room needed
curtains, Bert's racket was broken, the children clamoured for new
bathing-suits. Nancy knew two moods in the matter. There was the
mood in which she simply refused to spend money, and talked darkly
to the children of changes, and a life devoid of all this
ridiculous waste; and there was the mood in which she told herself
desperately that they would get through somehow, everyone else
did, one had to live, after all. In the latter mood she ordered
new glasses and new towels, and white shoes for all four children,
and bottles of maraschino cherries, and tins of caviar and the
latest novel, and four veils at a time.
"Mrs. Albert Bradley, Marlborough Gardens--by self," Nancy said
smoothly, swimming through the great city shops.
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