CHAPTER XXXIX

bedalltheshocksandsensationsthatshecouldcompassforoneday.Thisaffectedherneitheronewaynortheother.Sheonlythought: “Sothisexplainsit.” “It”wasasmallmatterthathad,somehow,stuckinhermindmorepersistentlythanitsimportanceseemedtojustify.SoonafterBarneyhadbroughtherJohnFoster’slatestbookshehadbeeninaPortLawrencebookshopandheardacustomerasktheproprietorforJohnFoster’snewbook.Theproprietorhadsaidcurtly,“Notoutyet.Won’tbeouttillnextweek.” Valancyhadopenedherlipstosay,“Oh,yes,itisout,”butclosedthemagain.Afterall,itwasnoneofherbusiness.Shesupposedtheproprietorwantedtocoveruphisnegligenceinnotgettingthebookinpromptly.Nowsheknew.ThebookBarneyhadgivenherhadbeenoneoftheauthor’scomplimentarycopies,sentinadvance. Well!Valancypushedtheproofsindifferentlyasideandsatdownintheswivel-chair.ShetookupBarney’spen—andavileoneitwas—pulledasheetofpapertoherandbegantowrite.Shecouldnotthinkofanythingtosayexceptbaldfacts. “DearBarney:— I