“Where you going, brother?”
The big bulky figure, ready for a new adventure, turned at the door.
“Just going to the Point and stand by! We must take care of the old doc’s leavings. The iron, that boy of his, and––the rest. Come on, Ginger.”
Polly watched the two pass from sight and then she readjusted her spectacles to the far-off angle.
And while this was occurring at the inn there was a tap on the door of the yellow house, and with its welcoming characteristic in full play, the door swung in, leaving a tall woman on the threshold flushed and apologetic.
“I never saw such a responsive door!” she said. “I really knocked very gently. Please tell me how far it is to the inn?”
Mary-Clare, her little group of children about her, looked up and smiled. The smile and the eyes made the stranger’s breath come a bit quicker.
“Just three miles to the south.” Mary-Clare came close. “You are walking? I will send my little girl with you. Noreen?”
But Jan-an was holding Noreen back.