Chapter Seven
“YES, I GOT THAT PART. What I’m interested in is hearing what your quilt looked like.”
Miss Sissy gave her an impatient look as if all quilts looked pretty much the same . . . flat with colors on it.
“Did it have any defining characteristics?” pushed Beatrice. “Do you know much about its history or who created it?”
It was like pulling teeth, but finally the old woman was able to begrudgingly offer some information about the missing quilt. She brightened up a bit as she spoke, giving small details, and was clearly very fond of it, despite the numerous other quilts in her cluttered house.
“So let me reiterate,” said Beatrice. “Your quilt sounds very old. It was your great-grandmother’s?”
“Great, great,” said Miss Sissy with some hostility as if Beatrice hadn’t been paying
