"He wrote this morning, Miss," she said suddenly.
"I know, Susan," I said, "I saw the envelope."
Susan went on furrowing the gravel.
"Would you like to read it, Miss?" she asked.
"Perhaps there's no necessity," I answered a little stiffly. "Perhaps you can manage the reply yourself."
"I wish you would read it, Miss," she said, after a very long pause.
"Where is it?"
"Upstairs, Miss."
"Then how can I read it?"
"Please, Miss," said Susan coyly. "I don't like to show it you. It's so loving."