Purple eBooks

"
"They won't think the things came down from heaven," said Miss Oman.
"No, I suppose they won't. But you know what I mean. Now, where do you
advise me to go for the raw materials of conviviality?"
Miss Oman reflected. "You'd better let me do your shopping and manage
the whole business," was her final verdict.
This was precisely what I had wanted, and I accepted thankfully,
regardless of the feelings of Mrs. Gummer. I handed her two pounds, and,
after some protests at my extravagance, she bestowed them in her purse;
a process that occupied time, since that receptacle, besides and
time-stained bills, already bulged with a lading of draper's samples,
ends of tape, a card of linen buttons, another of hooks and eyes, a lump
of beeswax, a rat-eaten stump of lead-pencil, and other trifles that I
have forgotten. As she closed the purse at the imminent risk of
wrenching off its fastenings she looked at me severely and pursed up her
lips.
"You're a very plausible young man," she remarked.
"What makes you say that?" I asked.


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