“Eh, Davy?”
“Well, Bessie,” I answered, doubtfully, “I’m not able t’ call t’ mind this minute just how she did. But I’m free t’ say,” regarding the streaks and thumb-marks with quick disfavour, “that it looks a lot like her.”
My sister smiled upon me with an air of loftiest superiority. “Smell it again,” said she.
“Well,” I admitted, after sniffing long and carefully, “I does seem t’ have got wind o’——”
“There’s no deceivin’ a woman’s nose,” my sister declared, positively. “’Tis a letter from the woman t’ Wolf Cove.”
“Then,” said I, with a frown, “we’d best burn it.”
She mused a moment. “He never got a letter afore,” she said, looking up.
“Not many folk has,” I objected.
“He’d be wonderful proud,” she continued, “o’ just gettin’ a letter.”
“But she’s a wily woman,” I protested, in warning, “an’ he’s a most obligin’ man. I fair shiver t’ think o’ leadin’ un into temptation.”