Eden, and she converted the past into a bank of violets by the tone in which she said, 'Of course you always knew my one passion!' She obviously met now, at any rate, a big contemporary need, measured what it was rapidly becoming for people to feel they could trust her without a tremor. It brought them a peace that—during the quarter of an hour before dinner in especial—was worth more to them than mere payment could express. Mere payment, none the less, was tolerably prompt; she engaged by the month, taking over the whole thing; and there was an evening on which, in respect to our heroine, she at last returned to the charge. 'It 's growing and growing, and I see that I must really divide the work. One wants an associate—of one's own kind, don't you know? You know the look they want it all to have?—of having come, not from a florist, but from one of themselves. Well, I'm sure you could give it—because you are one. Then we should win. Therefore just come in with me.'
'And leave the P.O.?'
'Let the P.O. simply bring you your letters.
