Jane didn't seem to understand. "A—a snooper?"
"Steals food. Awful thief. Slap him when you catch him at it; it's all you can do. Sometimes I throw water over him. He'll make off with what would be a meal for a hired man, and he's sly as any other thief."
"Can't I help you with your hand?"
"No, you can't. I get lots of them. They bother me a little because Mrs. Croft's cousin died of blood-poison from one. There, it's out. What was I saying? Oh, yes, the cat."
"Where is she now?"
"It's a he. Named Alfred for her husband. He's up in her room now. Always sleeps on her bed. She will have him, and I humor her. She's my only sister and she can't live long and she's left me all her money, and I humor her. It's my plain duty."
"Is it healthy for an invalid to sleep with a cat?"
"No, it ain't. But I promised to do whatever she said about the cat and the garden, and I do."
"I'm sure it's very good in you," Jane murmured, looking out of the window.
"It is. I'm a good woman. I do my whole duty, and there's not many in a town this size can say as much."