This excited the risibilities of Bess, who broke into a loud and noisy fit of laughter.
“What yer cacklin’ at, Bess?” demanded her mother.
“No, I won’t shoot yer,” she added, turning to Brooke. “You wouldn’t be half so good eatin’ as an antelope.”
Here Bess went off into another fit of laughter, in which Gerald and his companion joined, for the girl’s evident enjoyment was contagious.
“I am glad to hear that, madam.”
“What do you call me madam for?” inquired the woman suspiciously.
“Because I don’t know your name.”
“My name’s Sal Peters.”
“I shall remember, Mrs. Peters.”