"As happy as she could expect to be. She married Simon Varr, you know."
"Yes—I know." He disregarded her sarcastic implication. "I hear you've been back only a short time yourself. Staying at Lucy's?"
"Staying at Simon's!" corrected Miss Ocky grimly. "I suppose you know that's his beloved tannery a-fire down there?"
"So they tell me. I saw the flames from my house and thought I'd stroll down for the show."
"I was just turning in myself when I heard the siren," said Miss Ocky. "Rather pretty effect, don't you think?"
"Beautiful," agreed Sherwood. He surveyed the scene of the fire critically. "Beautiful—only I'm afraid they are going to save most of the buildings."
"Eh? What's that?" cried Miss Ocky sharply. Then she gave a chuckle. "Did you say 'afraid'?"
"Are you a friend of Simon's?"
"I detest the creature," she answered promptly. "And you?"
"It would afford me great pleasure," stated Sherwood calmly, "if that were Simon's funeral pyre."