Queed looked and recognized the flag that was everywhere in predominance that day. "And what will it mean if I wear it?" "Only," said Sharlee, "that you love the South." Vaguely Queed saw in her blue-spar eyes the same kind of softness that he noticed in people's voices this afternoon, a softness which somehow reminded him of a funeral, Fifi's or Colonel Cowles's. "Oh, very well, if you like."