“Your husband? Now you are kidding. You girls don’t either one of you look more than sixteen. Who’s this other girl if you’re the lady of the house?”
“I’m her sister-in-law,” Honey said. “I don’t live here in Dry Brook Hollow. I live in Farringdon.”
“You work there, too, don’t you?” inquired the man she knew as Mr. Montrose. “Weren’t you the girl who took my order for signs?”
“I was,” Honey admitted. “I lettered them, too. But I’m not working today, because it’s Saturday.”
“I see. You’re just here on a visit—”
“Anybody else visit?” one of the other men interrupted.
“Of course,” Judy replied a little impatiently. “Lots of people do. My friends, my parents, my brother—”
“Anybody else today?”
“Oh, you mean tourists. Not yet. We just put up the sign.”
“Perhaps the young lady would like to show us what she’s advertising,” the man Honey recognized suggested.