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"Yet what?" I snapped out, with horse eyes.

"No," she laughed, "and if I go back with you to Wiggins--to the little white cottage, you know, opposite the blacksmith's shop,--you'll give me what you've got for me, won't you?" She dropped her head to one side and a mocking-bird chuckle rippled in her throat.

"Yes." She stooped low under the interlacing boughs and plunged with me into the double darkness.

"Yes, I know. But you don't know even how your mother is acquainted with her."

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