soled herself with the thought that she could see who was passing her door.
Dot had "done" her living-room in delft blue. There were blue voile curtains at the window. Delft-blue voile. Dot had made them herself, and she was well pleased with the window.
It irritated her that the rug wasn't delft blue, but still it was awfully nice in its reddish-greenish-tannish way. Dot had never before seen such plump roses, and they were tan roses, too, but the rug had been Edna's, thus erasing all doubt of their authenticity.
Dot was doubtful about the golden-oak table. Ought it be square? Oh, well, it was square, and she didn't know anything that could be done about it except to keep an ecru cover on it and in the center a little fern that almost looked real.
One of the chairs was golden oak, too, and it beamed with a sickly yellowish smile upon its partner who was only mission wood.
There was a Morris chair. The cushions on it wrere not delft blue. They were bottle green and a little worn, but Dot didn't mind that. She thought Eddie wouldn't be nearly so comfortable in a stiff new chair.
Catty-cornered in the southwest corner was a table. Edna's mother-in-law had got it from her mother-in-law as a wedding present. Dot liked it least of all the things in the room. It was so terribly heavy and old-fashioned. She had Eddie's radio set on it, so people wouldn't notice that the table was a hundred and fifty years old.
Of course there was a sofa. It was cherry-wood and not upholstered in delft blue. It had a pale gray background and was brocaded with tiny pink buttercups. It was a very comfortable sofa. The first day in the new apartment, Dot had made Eddie lie on it and had asked if he could honestly say that he had ever encountered a
