"And is it still so very silly to say that a certain little white town looks glorious from the hills—?"
"Oh yes—"
"And did Uncle Simon—"
"Simeon," I corrected.
"—Let you read the book after all? Now do you believe I remember, little Miss Doubting Thomas?"
I was radiant in the light of the kind quizzical smile.
"Of course I do. He burned it in the fire and said it was a wicked swearing book just when I was at the best point where they attack the Gold Train. That was when he began to treat me crueller, till at last I ran away and came back to Grandmother and Aunt Jael."
"They live here—in Tawborough?"
"In Bear Lawn, do you know it? Number Eight."
"May I be inquisitive? What is your name, little girl?"