“I know,” said my sister.
“How did you know?”
“Annie told me.”
Annie is the house parlormaid. A nice girl, but an inveterate talker.
There was a pause. I continued to eat eggs and bacon. My sister’s nose, which is long and thin, quivered a little at the tip, as it always does when she is interested or excited over anything.
“Well?” she demanded.
“A bad business. Nothing to be done. Must have died in her sleep.”
“I know,” said my sister again.
This time I was annoyed.
“You can’t know,” I snapped. “I didn’t know myself until I got there, and I haven’t mentioned it to a soul yet. If that girl Annie knows, she must be a clairvoyant.”