"No, it is n't that," she said with a world of meaning which challenged enquiry.
Marjolaine obliged her, although she felt no interest. "What is it, then?"
Having succeeded in getting the question she wanted, Miss Ruth made a feint of retreating. "Pfft!" she said, with the action of blowing some annoying insect away, and then, cryptically, "Oh! grant me patience!"
"Ruth!" exclaimed Marjolaine, astonished at her violence.
"Well!" cried Ruth, still more sharply. "It seems to me the whole house is bewitched—that ever I should say such a thing."
Marjolaine grew more and more surprised. "Oh! I thought you were so happy!"
"I 'm happy enough," snapped Ruth, "because I 'm not a fool. But what with that feller upstairs, and Barbara down, a body has no peace of her life."
Now, what could she mean? Of course Mr. Pringle was upstairs, and of course Barbara was downstairs. How could that perfectly natural state of things affect the peace of Miss Ruth's life?
"Tell me," said Marjolaine.
"Ha' n't you noticed anything? No. I s'pose you 're too young. Don't know sheeps' eyes when you see 'em!"