“What do you think of that, Nina?” chuckled the spokesman of the two new arrivals.
She turned again to the old woman. “Well,” said she politely, “we want to do what’s right. I just thought I’d ask you, you know. We’re strangers here, all right enough. We wouldn’t plan to stay long—maybe not more than a day or two.”
“Who air ye?” demanded Granny Joslin succinctly. “Have ye heerd anything about the war outside? I heerd tell thar was some sort of diffikilty we-all was havin’ with some other folks somewhars. I come down to see.”
“War! Have we heard of the war! I should say we hadn’t heard of anything else!” rejoined the young woman. “It’s put a crimp in business, all right—especially our business.”
“What is yore business, Ma’am?” queried the old dame.
“We’re players—actors—don’t you see?—theatrical people—you know. And we’ve lost a perfectly good angel. That’s why we’re here.”
This statement likewise seemed to Granny Joslin a most extraordinary one. She made no comment, as the speaker went on, feeling a trifle angered in the suspicion that these others were making sport of her.
“Well, it was the war that did that,” said the young woman. “And here we are.”
“Tell me, Madam,” began the older of the two newcomers, seeing the perplexity of the old lady, “do you know of any one in here lately by the name of Haddon?”
Granny Joslin bent the calm gaze of her deep-set hazel eyes upon her.