“I was born and raised out to Adams Corners,” said Mrs. Royce. “Guess there’s no one living out there that I don’t know.”
“Then perhaps you know Miss Craigie?”
“Miss Margaret Craigie? I should say I did! If you’re a friend of hers—”
“Only an acquaintance,” said Lexy cautiously.
“Set down!” suggested Mrs. Royce, very cordial now. “I’ll light a nice wood fire. A writer, are you? Well, well! And the gentleman—I wonder, now, what brings him here!”
“He told me he’d come to see his sister,” said Lexy. “Mrs. Quelton, I think he said.”
“Quelton!” cried the landlady. “You didn’t say Quelton? Not the doctor’s wife?”
“Yes,” said the captain’s voice from the doorway. “Nothing happened to her, has there? Nothing gone wrong?”
Mrs. Royce stared at him with the most profound interest, and he stared back at her, somewhat uneasily.
“No,” said she, at last. “No—only—well, I’m sure!”