“No. That can’t be. He wouldn’t...” She held the bonnet in one hand and fingered the dove-gray ribbon ties, a color the women had said would go well with the fabrics he’d chosen.
“Mutti’s right. They’re yours.”
Becky gave her head an emphatic shake, set the bonnet on the table and pushed the pile of items toward him. “No. You must take them back.”
“Come with me, please.” He took her by the elbow and led her onto the porch. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like them?”
“I can’t accept a gift like that. It would be improper.”
He had to make her understand because he wasn’t about to have her wearing that dingy dress of hers any longer. She deserved better. “It’s not a gift. Think of it as...your uniform. You’ve only got one dress since the other’s burned, and it’s unacceptable.”
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