The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. She caught at the idea. It took her only two towns away, near the Arby’s where Mike worked. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII.
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