Hester walked back up the three or four stairs she had descended, and returned to the mangle without a word.
Rebecca looked up from her crossword puzzle. “What is it?” she asked. “... No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I’m timing myself on this puzzle. The newspaper gives the time it should take a person of average intelligence. What in the world, Florence, could be the name of a young salmon with only four letters and the last three a-r-r?”
Mrs. Gentrie shook her head. “Too deep for me,” she said, her manner indicating that she was interested only in dismissing the question. She went over to the basket of mending.
The shaft of sunlight which had been falling on Mephisto had moved over to the edge of the chair. The cat stretched, yawned, moved over a few inches, and squirmed over half on its back.
Rebecca frowningly studied the crossword puzzle.
Mrs. Gentrie said to Hester, “I can’t understand why anyone would seal up an empty can in the first place.”
“No, ma’am.”
Rebecca said, “If I could get the five-letter word meaning the side of a ditch next the parapet, I’d have the first letter of that word for the young salmon.”
“Why not look up parapet?”
“I have. It says, ‘a wall, rampart, or elevation to protect soldiers; a breastwork.’ ”