She felt the ogling eyes.
The stockings had gone back to the third bureau drawer--to the bottom--and never had her ankles flashed a silken challenge to a public that might misunderstand.
Yet--and this it was that was making Winona old before her time--always in her secret heart of hearts she did long abjectly to wear silk stockings--all manner of sinful silken trifles.

Evil yearnings like this would sweep her.

But she took them to be fruits of a natural depravity that good women must fight.

Thus far she had triumphed.
Mrs.Penniman now wielded the palm-leaf fan.

She eyed her husband with an almost hardened glance, then ran a professional eye over the lines of Winona.