“Lots! Want to know what I know?” Cal nodded.
“Pillow-cases,” said the girl, “are used to cover pillows so that they won’t get soiled.” She paused and looked at him with dancing eyes. Cal grunted.
“What else?” he demanded.
“They are also used to—to gather apples in.”
“Look here, did you see us—I mean them—I mean—”
She nodded gayly.
“You and them both,” she laughed. “What’s your name?”
“John Boland,” answered Cal. Then he added, thinking that perhaps it was the correct thing to do: “What’s yours?”
“Molly Elizabeth Curtis.” She made a little backward movement with her head. “They’re my aunts, you know. I live in New York when I’m at home but I’m going to be here all winter. Isn’t that awful?”
“Why, aren’t they good to you?”