“Of course I’ll have to tell him,” she said, “that you were at Septimus’s school, where you were frightfully struck with the Lorton Bible, but that you didn’t like Septimus—that’ll be sure to please him—and so you didn’t ask him to help you.”
Her face began to brighten as she put this on paper, and I noticed that she was protruding the tip of her tongue.
“So you came here all by yourself, thinking he’d be at home, as it was the Easter holidays, and when you found he wasn’t, you asked to see me instead, and I was most frightfully taken up with you.”
Here she made a blot, but observed that it didn’t matter, and then pronounced each word as she slowly inscribed it.
“He seems a most lovable and religious young man, and I do hope you’ll help him all you can. Cross, cross, cross—those are for kisses—your ever loving and devoted Nina.”
Then she handed me the letter.
“There you are,” she said. “Now you’ll know exactly what you’ll have to tell him.”
Releasing one of my hands, I read it quickly but carefully and returned it to her without comment.
“Will it do?” she said.
“I can only hope,” I replied, “that, for your own sake, madam, it will.”