“Yes, but what about?”
She was fired with suspicion.
“We were wondering the best thing you could feed them with.”
Suspicion fell from her.
“What do you think?” she asked. “Would corn be any good?”
Cruikshank blew his nose.
“A little bit solid,” he said dubiously.
“You can’t do better than give them the same as their mother does,” I suggested.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Small worms,” I replied, and I watched her face; “those little thin, red, raw ones.”