THE kitchen, that had been a core of fiery heat all day, was now more comfortable. Lizzie sat in an easy slouch, elbows on the oilcloth table cover, enjoying her own supper before attacking the great piles of dishes. The cleansed air, drifting through the open window, struck pleasantly on the moist glow of her body. There was a light tread on the back steps and the squeak of the screen door. The cook felt too deservedly slack to turn, but removed her mouth from the ear of com just far enough to speak.
"Back early, ain't you?"
"Yeah. Brady's shofer was coming this way in their station wagon. Save me walking later on."
"Didn't expect you so soon, nice night like this."
"Well, Brady's bus was coming. Say, that fellow's got a nerve, all right."
Nounou tossed her hat on the shelf; ran her hands through her hair, sat down wearily in the other chair.
