“Now isn’t the time for dilly-dallying, Mother. Besides, it’s cold out and I sense a gale brewing.” Uncle Jarus held up his hand against the building breeze. “No more evening constitutionals, Mum. I mean it.”
“I see yer really taking yer own words te heart.” Grandmother Meriweather jabbed her thumb in Monte’s direction. “Yeh don’t see me pestering yeh about yer business with Master Monte, especially with all that’s going on.” She said the last with great indignation.
Monte refrained from chuckling. Grandmother Meriweather was so dramatic when she got worked up.
“Besides,” she continued, “what’s an old woman meant te do with herself, all cooped up inside?”
“Gah!” Uncle Jarus threw his hands up in exasperation.
Saladin barked, his howls echoing through the trees.
“Ack, Saladin!” Uncle
