"And Mrs. Caniper of Pinderwell House will be very much obliged if you'll let her have two chickens as soon as possible."
"Certainly, miss. I'll go and see about them."
Miriam let out a little scream and put her hands to her ears.
"No, no, don't kill them yet! Not till you're quite sure that I'm safely on the other side of the road. John, stop her!"
"You're a little goose," Lily said. "They're lying quite comfortably dead in the larder."
"Oh, thank Heaven! Shall I tell you a horrible secret of my past life? Once when I was very small, I crept through Halkett's larch-wood just to see what was happening down there, because Mrs. Samson had been hinting things, and what I saw—oh, what do you think I saw?" She shuddered and, covering her face, she let one bright eye peep round the protecting hand. "I saw that idiot boy wringing a hen's neck! And now," she ended, "I simply can't eat chicken."
"Dear, dear!" John said, and clucked his tongue. "Dreadful confession of a young girl!"
Lily Brent was laughing. "And to think I've wrung their necks myself!"
"Have you? Ugh! Nasty!"
"It is, but some one had to do it."