lothes!

"Six minutes," said Mrs. Baxter, glancing implacably at her watch. "When
it's ten I'll telephone."

And the end of it was, of course, victory for the woman--victory both
moral and physical. Three-quarters of an hour later she was unburdening
the contents of the two baskets and putting the things back in place,
illuminating these actions with an expression of strong distaste--in
spite of broken assurances that Mr. Beljus had not more than touched any
of the articles offered to him for valuation.

... At dinner, which was unusually early that evening, Mrs. Baxter did
not often glance toward her son; she kept her eyes from that white face
and spent most of her time in urging upon Mr. Baxter that he should
be prompt in dressing for a card-club meeting which he and she were
to attend that evening. These admonitions of hers were continued so
pressingly that Mr. Baxter, after protesting that there was no use in
being a whole hour too early, groaningly went to dress without even
reading his paper.

William had retired to his own room, where he lay upon his bed in the
darkness. He heard the evening noises of the house faintly through the
closed door: voices and the clatter of metal and china from the far-away
kitchen, Jane's laugh in the hall, the opening and closing of the doors.
Then his father seemed to be in distress about something. William heard
him complaining to Mrs. Baxter, and though the words were indistinct,
the tone was vigorously plaintive. Mrs. Baxter laughed and appeared
to make light of his troubles, whatever they were--and presently
their footsteps were audible from the stairway; the front door closed
emphatically, and they were gone.

Everything was quiet now. The open window showed as a greenish oblong
set in black, and William knew that in a little while there would come
through the stillness of that window the distant sound of violins. That
was a moment he dreaded with a dread that ached. And as he lay on his
dreary bed he thought of brightly lighted rooms where other boys were
dressing eagerly faces and hair shining, hearts beating high--boys who
would possess this last evening and the "last waltz together," the last
smile and the last sigh.

It did not once enter his mind that he could go to the dance in his
"best suit," or that possibly the other young people at the party would
be too busy with their own affairs to notice particularly what he wore.
It was the unquestionable and granite fa