Jed looked surprised; he smiled his one-sided smile.
"No, ma'am," he drawled. "I've been pretty busy but 'twan't about anything important. I presume likely," he added, "there ain't anybody in Ostable County that can be so busy as I can be doin' nothin' important."
"And you can spare a few minutes? I—I want to talk to you very much. I won't be long, really."
He regarded her intently. Then he walked toward the door leading to the little workroom. "Come right in here, ma'am," he said, gravely; adding, after they had entered the other apartment, "Take that chair. I'll sit over here on the box."
He pulled forward the box and turned to find her still standing.
"Do sit down," he urged. "That chair ain't very comfortable, I know. Perhaps I'd better get you another one from my sittin'-room in yonder."
He was on his way to carry out the suggestion, but she interrupted him. "Oh, no," she said. "This one will be perfectly comfortable, I'm sure, only—"
"Yes? Is there somethin' the matter with it?"
"Not the matter with it, exactly, but it seems to be—occupied."
Jed stepped forward and peered over the workbench at the chair. Its seat was piled high with small pasteboard boxes containing hardware-screws, tacks and metal washers—which he used in his mill and vane-making.