Vintage Munro (2011)
“The station agent often tried a little teasing with women, especially the plain ones who seemed to appreciate it.
“Furniture?” he said, as if nobody had ever had such an idea before. “Well. Now. What kind of furniture are we talking about?”
A dining-room table and six chairs. A full bedroom suite, a sofa, a coffee table, end tables, a floor lamp. Also a china cabinet and a buffet.
“Whoa there. You mean a houseful.”
“It shouldn’t count as that much,” she said. “There’s no kitchen things and only... enough for one bedroom.”
Her teeth were crowded to the front of her mouth as if they were ready for an argument.
“You’ll be needing the truck,” he said.
“No. I want to send it on the train. It’s going out west, to Saskatchewan.”
She spoke to him in a loud voice as if he was deaf or stupid, and there was something wrong with the way she pronounced her words. An accent. He thought of Dutch—the Dutch were moving in around here—but she didn’t have the heft of the Dutch women or the nice pink skin or the fair hair.MoreLess
“Furniture?” he said, as if nobody had ever had such an idea before. “Well. Now. What kind of furniture are we talking about?”
A dining-room table and six chairs. A full bedroom suite, a sofa, a coffee table, end tables, a floor lamp. Also a china cabinet and a buffet.
“Whoa there. You mean a houseful.”
“It shouldn’t count as that much,” she said. “There’s no kitchen things and only... enough for one bedroom.”
Her teeth were crowded to the front of her mouth as if they were ready for an argument.
“You’ll be needing the truck,” he said.
“No. I want to send it on the train. It’s going out west, to Saskatchewan.”
She spoke to him in a loud voice as if he was deaf or stupid, and there was something wrong with the way she pronounced her words. An accent. He thought of Dutch—the Dutch were moving in around here—but she didn’t have the heft of the Dutch women or the nice pink skin or the fair hair.MoreLess
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