"You're not planning to watch the thermometer and keep him
changing underwear accordingly?"

"Not at all, Doctor Burns. But four weights for the year
aren't too many, are they?"

"Are you buying for a year ahead?"

"Please let me. I shall not be here when he needs to change."

Their eyes met. Something in hers made him desist from
argument.

Stockings came next. Mrs. Lessing bought substantial tan ones
in quantity, long and well reenforced. Then she took up socks
of russet and of white. "Shall you object to his wearing
these a good, deal?" she asked Burns. He took up one small
sample, running his fingers into it. "I should think he might
put his toes through one of those in an hour or two," he
suggested. "His legs are pretty thin. Do you think pipe-stem
legs in short socks, to say nothing of bruises and scratches,
really attractive?"

"You want him to go barefooted a good deal of the time, don't
you?"

"Sure. But legs in socks are neither fish, flesh, nor good
red herring, to my thinking."

In spite of the smile on his lips, he looked obstinate and she