CHAPTER VI“Mrs. Harrison and me, we talked it over,” said Agnes. “And what we thought was, we didn’t see that it had got anything to do with Miss Postlethwaite.” She sat on the edge of one of Miss Silver’s more upright chairs, her hands gripping a new shiny black handbag with a gilt clasp. Her gloves were new too and of a good quality, and her black cloth coat had cost a great deal more than Miss Silver would have dreamed of paying.
As she paused, and apparently expected some comment, Miss Silver said,
“Quite so.”
Agnes opened the shiny black bag, took out a clean folded white handkerchief with an initial A lurking in a wreath of forget-me-nots, dabbed the tip of her nose with it, and having returned the handkerchief still folded to the bag, proceeded to emphasize her last remark.
“We
