“So,” said the Master, as he opened the door, “you are late to your lesson.”
“It is my lesson day, isn’t it?” returned Lynn. “But I have only come to practise. My aunt is dead.”
“So? Your aunt?”
“Yes, Aunt Peace. Miss Field, you know,” he continued, in explanation.
“So? I did not know. When was it?”
“Sunday afternoon.”
“And this is Tuesday. Well, we hear very little up here. It is too bad.”
“Yes,” agreed Lynn, awkwardly, “It—it upsets things.”