"Ye wanted to, eh? Ye wanted to! Did ye see the records?"
"I did."
"Is this here letter a lie?" He spanked the table with it.
"It is not."
He rose from his chair and bent over her. "D'ye mean to tell me yer maw's sister don't own that prop'ty?"
"Exactly. It belongs to Mr. Oliver Drew, according to the recorder's office. May I suggest that I am rather proud of my biscuits tonight, and that they're growing cold as lumps of clay?"
"It's a lie!" roared Selden.
"Now, just a moment," said Jessamy coolly. "Do I gather that you are calling me a liar, Mr. Selden? Because if you are, I'll get a cattle whip and do my utmost to make you swallow it. I'll probably get the worst of it, but—"
"Shut up!" bawled Selden. "Ye know what I mean, right enough! The whole dam' thing's a lie!"
"Tell it to the county recorder, then," Jessamy advised serenely. "Have another piece of steak, Mother."