“I know it,” she assented, “but I carried it in that old wrap.... Did Father tell you about my uncle?”
“Yes,” replied the cobbler.
“And that he was made to die for something my uncle did?”
“Yes, an’ that he might harm you.... I knew your mother well, lass, when she was young like you.”
An expression of sadness pursed Jinnie’s pretty mouth.
“I don’t remember her, you see,” she murmured sadly. “I wish I had her now.”
And she heard the cobbler murmur, “What must your uncle be to want to hurt a little, sweet girl like you?”
They did not speak again for a few moments. 55
“Go call Peg,” the cobbler then said.
At a loss, Virginia glanced about.