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"Hit will rain to-morrow, sho'. I mus' git in my t'ings." Ma'am Mouton's remark must have been addressed to herself or to the lean dog, for no one else was visible. She moved briskly about the yard, taking things from the line, when Louisette's voice called cheerily: "Ah, Ma'am Mouton, can I help?" Louisette was petite and plump and black-haired.
Louisette's eyes danced, and her lips were red and tempting. Ma'am Mouton's face relaxed as the small brown hands relieved hers of their burden. "Sylves', has he come yet?" asked the red mouth. "Mais non, ma chere," said Ma'am Mouton, sadly, "I can' tell fo' w'y he no come home soon dese day. Ah me, I feel lak' somet'ing goin' happen. He so strange."
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