“I—I didn’t know ye cussed, ma’am,” he found himself saying.
“What you don’t know about me,” snapped Mary, “would give you a college education if you could find it out. I curse when I’m mad, like anybody else does who’s got any gumption. I’m a bad woman, Henry Richkirk—and don’t you forget it!”
“I’m plumb s’prised, ma’am,” he puzzled. “You don’t cuss when Mis’ Reemy’s about, do ye?”
“I don’t,” barked Mary. “But that’s no sign I can’t. And when I swear I’m mad. Now poke up that fire and tell me what’s become of Doctor Shonto!”
“I ain’t seen ’im at all, ma’am,” said Henry, stirring the embers and heaping on kindling and stony yucca.
“Don’t lie to me!”
“Honest!”
“What are you doing here?”
“I been to town to git me a new rain gauge, ma’am. It didn’t come right soon, and I—I waited.”
“What town?”