“Oh, could you? Can you?” cried the woman, eagerly.
“I can try,” said Bob. “Were there many of them?”
“Just twenty, Bob,” replied Miss Simmons.
“Twenty? Were they all addressed to you?”
“Yes, years ago. Oh, I must get them back at once, Bob—at once,” and she acted as if she was going into another fit.
“Maybe people will bring them back to you,” said Bob.
“But they would read them first. Oh, I should die if they did! I would leave town. Everybody would be laughing at me.”
“What would they laugh for?” asked honest Bob.
Miss Simmons did not reply to this. She only wrung her hands and looked worried to death.