sting about two-eighty-five and sell
objects of luxury at a bazaar twice as fast as a mature woman of sterling
character in the same simple garb.

So Genevieve May saw it had got to be something costing more money and
beyond the reach of an element you wouldn't care to entertain in your
own drawing room. And next thing I was up to Spokane, and here she is,
dashing round the corridors of the hotel in a uniform that never cost a
penny under two hundred and fifty, what with its being made by a swell
tailor and having shiny boots with silver spurs and a natty tucked
cap and a shiny belt that went round the waist and also up over one
shoulder, with metal trimming, and so on. She was awful busy, darting
hither and yon at the lunch hour, looking prettily worried and like she
would wish to avoid being so conspicuous, but was foiled by the stares
of the crowd.

Something always seemed to be happening to make her stand out; like in
the restaurant, where, no sooner did she pick out just the right table,
after some hesitation, and get nicely seated, than she'd see someone
across the room at a far table and have to run over and speak. She spoke
to parties at five distant tables that day, getting a scratchy lunch, I
should say. One of the tables was mine. We wasn't what you'd call close
friends, but she cut a swath clean across a crowded dining room to tell
me how well I was looking.

Of course I fell for the uniform and wanted to know what it meant. Well,
it meant that she was organizing a corps of girl ambulance drivers from
the city's beet families. She was a major herself already, and was being
saluted by he-officers. She said it was a wonderful work, and how did I
think she looked in this, because it was a time calling for everyone's
best, and what had I taken up for my bit? I was only raising beef cattle,
so I didn't have any answer to that. I felt quite shamed. And Genevieve
went back to her own table for another bite of food, bowing tolerantly to
most of the people in the room.

I don't know how far she ever got with this girl's ambulance corps
beyond her own uniform. She certainly made an imposing ambulance driver
herself on the streets of that town. You'd see her big, shiny, light-blue
limousine drive up, with two men on the seat and Genevieve, in uniform,
would be helped out by one of 'em, and you knew right off you'd love to
be a wounded soldier and be drove over shell-torn roads by her own hands.

Anyway, she got ma