“I’m not ever going to ask you another question,” she announced.
“Not until next time,” teased Jack, ruffling up her hair.
“I suppose you are as curious as Prissy,” he said later on to Desiré, after the children were asleep.
August had come in with a cool wind from over Fundy, and after darkness fell, the chill was more noticeable; so Jack had built a small camp fire, and he and Desiré were sitting beside it on a pile of cedar boughs.
“Well, yes,” admitted Desiré. “I must confess that I am.”
“I went to see a young carpenter that the judge recommended to me—”
“About floors?” asked Desiré eagerly, twisting around so quickly to look directly into his face that the pile of boughs swayed threateningly.
“Look out, Dissy!” warned her brother. “You’ll have us both in the fire if you don’t sit still. Yes, about floors, and partitions.”
“What did he say?”
“He’s busy on one of the farms now, but when the crops are in he’ll do the work for us at a price that we can afford to pay. That is, I think we can if we do well for the rest of the summer.”