“Oh, yis, ivery pinny on what was burned, so Mary tells me.”
Quigg caught his breath; the rumor in the village was the other way. Why didn't Crimmins make a clean sweep of it and burn 'em all at once, he said to himself.
“I brought some flowers over for Miss Jennie,” said Quigg, regaining his composure. “Is she in?”
“Yis; I'll call her.” Gentle and apparently harmless as Gran'pop was, men like Quigg somehow never looked him steadily in the eye.
“I was tellin' Mr. Mullins I brought ye over some flowers,” said Quigg, turning to Jennie as she entered, and handing her the bunch without leaving his seat, as if it had been a pair of shoes.
“You're very kind, Mr. Quigg,” said the girl, laying them on the table, and still standing.
“I hear'd your brother Patsy was near smothered till Dutchy got him out. Was ye there?”
Jennie bit her lip and her heart quickened. Carl's sobriquet in the village, coming from such lips, sent the hot blood to her cheeks.
“Yes, Mr. Nilsson saved his life,” she answered slowly, with girlish dignity, a backward rush filling her heart as she remembered Carl staggering out of the burning stable, Patsy held close to his breast.
“The fellers in Rockville say ye think it was set afire. I see Justice Rowan turned Billy McGaw loose. Do ye suspect anybody else? Some says a tramp crawled in and upset his pipe.”