“Give it to me,” she says, “You’ve already opened it. Give it to me. Please, Jason. It’s mine. I saw the name.”
“I’ll take a hame string to you,” I says. “That’s what I’ll give you. Going into my papers.”
“Is there some money in it?” she says, reaching for it. “She said she would send me some money. She promised she would. Give it to me.”
“What do you want with money?” I says.
“She said she would,” she says, “Give it to me. Please, Jason. I wont ever ask you anything again, if you’ll give it to me this time.”
“I’m going to, if you’ll give me time,” I says. I took the letter and the money order out and gave her the letter. She reached for the money order, not hardly glancing at the letter. “You’ll have to sign it first,” I says.
“How much is it?” she says.
“Read the letter,” I says. “I reckon it’ll say.”
She read it fast, in about two looks.
“It dont say,” she says, looking up. She dropped the letter to the floor. “How much is it?”