"Awful what?"

"Ugh!" she shuddered, "I can't bear to think of it. I wish you could
forget."

"Forget what?"

"What? How can you ask? That awful, horrid, uncouth, sloppy girl." Again
Mandy shuddered. "Those hands, big, coarse, red, ugly."

"Yes," cried Allan savagely, "the badge of slavery for a whole household
of folk too ignorant to know the price that was being paid for the
service rendered them."

"And the hair," continued Mandy relentlessly, "uncombed, filthy, horrid.
And the dress, and--"

"Stop it!" cried Allan peremptorily.

"No, let me go on. The stupid face, the ignorant mind, the uncouth
speech, the vulgar manners. Oh, I loathe the picture, and I wonder you
can ever bear to look at her again. And, oh, I wish you could forget."

"Forget!" The young man's lean, swarthy face seemed to light up with the
deep glowing fires in his dark eyes. His voice grew vibrant. "Forget!
Never while I live. Do you know what _I_ remember?"

"Ah, spare me!" moaned his wife, putting her hands over his mouth.