“There you are,” said Pete, flapping the letter on one hand.
“Good sakes alive!” said Nancy. “Did it come by the post, though, Pete?”
“Look at the stamp, woman, and see for yourself,” said Pete.
“My goodness me! From Kirry, you say?”
“Let me in, then, and I'll be reading you bits.”
Nancy went back to her kneading with looks of bewilderment, and Pete followed her, opening the letter.
“She's well enough, Nancy—no need to read that part at all. But see,” running his forefinger along the writing “'Kisses for the baby, and love to Nancy, and tell Grannie not to be fretting? et setterer, et setterer. See?”
Nancy looked up at her thumping and thunging, and said, “Did Mr. Kelly give it you?”
“He did that,” said Pete, “this minute at the gate. It's his time, isn't it?”
Nancy glanced at the clock. “I suppose it must be right,” she said.