“I have no idea.”
“They say,” in her sprightliest manner, “that that girl who killed her lover was refused credit at every store in Prouty. No one would trust her for even five dollars’ worth of groceries. Rather pathetic, isn’t it?”
Mr. Pantin looked up quickly.
“Who told you that?”
“Everyone seems to know it.”
Mr. Pantin frowned slightly.
“If you mean Miss Prentice, I wouldn’t speak of her in that fashion, Priscilla.”
“Mormon Joe’s Kate, then, if you like that better,” replied Mrs. Pantin, nettled.
“Or 'Mormon Joe’s Kate,' either,” curtly.
“So sorry; I didn’t know you knew her. Do you?”