CHAPTER IX
TOMMY TREGENNIS,
Chapel Garth,
East Draeth.
This was the address on a cheap, white envelope that the postman brought on Boxing Day and pushed through the gap below the door. Mrs. Tregennis picked up the letter and turned it over more than once before passing it on to her husband.
“Well, it beats me, Ellen,” said he; “’tis a female hand for certain. Who can be makin’ up to our Tommy?”
Mrs. Tregennis went to the door and espied Jimmy Prynne. “Seen our Tommy?” she asked him.
Jimmy jerked his thumb over his right shoulder, and Mrs. Tregennis walked in the direction indicated.
“Tommy,” she called.
But Tommy, conscious of grimy hands and sticky mouth, thought this was a summons to wash, and affected not to hear. Something on the horizon claimed his attention and he gazed fixedly out to sea.
Mrs. Tregennis, therefore, waved the white envelope in vain. “Tommy, postman’s brought a letter for ee, for your very own.”