“No; I’ll watch that,” laughed the older woman.
Soon the supper was finished. Mrs. Radford sat guard in her chair. Paul lit a cigarette. Clara went upstairs, returning with a sleeping-suit, which she spread on the fender to air.
“Why, I’d forgot all about THEM!” said Mrs. Radford. “Where have they sprung from?”
“Out of my drawer.”
“H’m! You bought ‘em for Baxter, an’ he wouldn’t wear ‘em, would he?” — laughing. “Said he reckoned to do wi’out trousers i’ bed.” She turned confidentially to Paul, saying: “He couldn’t BEAR ‘em, them pyjama things.”
