“Yes, ma’am.”
“Have you ever seen it?”
“No, ma’am. That’s the trouble. I don’t mind anything I can lay my hands on.”
He drew himself to his full height.
“Then,” choked Aunt Philomela, in helpless wrath, “why don’t you face it like a man?”
“If it didn’t come from the Artcic, ma’am.”
“Well, it didn’t,” she declared.
“Then you knows about it?”
“Yes,” she answered coldly, “I know all about it.”
“Perhaps you’ve seen it?”