"Yis, purty bad, but small loss, thank God," said Pop quietly.
"That lets her out of the contract, don't it?" said Quigg.
"She'll be short of horses now."
Pop made no answer. He did not intend to give Mr. Quigg any
information that might comfort him.
"Were ye insured?" asked Quigg, in a cautious tone, his eyes on
the lilacs.
"Oh, yis, ivery pinny on what was burned, so Mary tells me."
Quigg caught his breath; the rumor in the village was the other
way. Why didn't Crimmins make a clean sweep of it and burn 'em
all at once, he said to himself.
"I brought some flowers over for Miss Jennie," said Quigg,
regaining his composure. "Is she in?"
"Yis; I'll call her." Gentle and apparently harmless as Gran'pop
was, men like Quigg somehow never looked him steadily in the eye.
"I was tellin' Mr. Mullins I brought ye over some flowers," said
Quigg, turning to Jennie as she entered, and handing her the bunch
without leaving his seat, as if it had been a pair of shoes.
"You're very kind, Mr. Quigg," said the girl, laying them on the
table, and still standing.
"I hear'd your brother Patsy was near smothered till Dutchy got
him out. Was ye there?"
Jennie bit her lip and her heart quickened. Carl's sobriquet in
the village, coming from such lips, sent the hot blood to her
cheeks.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137