“She is deaf,” I said. “You must speak very loud. Her right ear she calls her good one.”
“Alex!” he screamed.
“Heavens and earth! What is it?” she exclaimed, turning her head a little.
“Stand up! I want to speak to you,” he said.
She stumbled to her feet like one very lame, and in so doing partly upset her pail of suds, while little streams of water went slowly over her clean hearth.
“Do you know Ivan Scholaskie?” was the first question, while Alex clutched the piece of soap in her hand, and looked ruefully at the water on the hearth, as she answered: “Yes, sir.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“If I did, I would not tell,” was the reply, and it seemed to me the old woman’s bent form straightened a good deal, and her head was held high, nor did it droop in the least at the next question, which made me choke with alarm.
“Were you at my house while I was gone?”
“Yes, sir.”