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Updated: September 7, 2025
She looked so young, so feminine, so exquisitely soft that, somehow, they thought not. Toomey's sallow skin had taken on a saffron shade, and Mrs. Toomey sat with her thin hands clenched in her lap, a strained smile fixed on her face, waiting for she knew not what.
Toomey's conscience and caution into a profound slumber the latter to be awakened only when, counting the banknotes in her husband's wallet, she was startled to discover that they had little more than enough to pay their hotel bill and return to Prouty in comfort. If either of them remembered the source from which their present luxurious enjoyment came, neither mentioned it.
Never was handled right when I was a colt. Don't you wait fer me, feller, you jest sift along in and I'll come when I git done." Judging from the expression on Toomey's face, it seemed to the Major an opportune time to interrupt. "Since nobody aims to introduce us " he began good-naturedly, extending a hand. "My name is Prouty Stephen Douglas Prouty. You've heard of me, like as not."
As she called a spade a spade, so she knew herself to be by instinct and early training a toady. Of the same type, in appearance and characteristics, in this trait, lay the main difference in the two women: while Mrs. Pantin with her better intelligence was intensely selfish, Mrs. Toomey's dominant trait was a moral cowardice that made her a natural sycophant.
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