Chapter Four
It was soon widely known across Berrie North that Bridget Pettigrew was refusing her food.
Her love of fine fare was common knowledge on both sides of the town, and at first it was held that she must be sickening for something. But when Tobias saw her passing The Moss and Mist late in the afternoon, brisk in step and ruddy of cheek, he was moved to doubt it.
‘Mistress Pettigrew,’ he called, darting out of the door in pursuit of her.
‘Why, Mr. Dwerryhouse!’ she said with her merry smile, and stopped at once. ‘I would have come in to bid you good day, only I was lost in my thoughts.’
He bowed, and waved this aside. ‘I only wished to enquire after your health,’ he explained.
Bridget rolled her bright blue eyes and gave a tiny sigh. ‘Tis most kind of you, but unnecessary, fo
