"Mr. Bangs! Oh, Mr. Bangs!" she cried, breathlessly. "It's all right,
ain't it? It's all right?"
Galusha, startled, stared at her.
"Dear me, Primmie," he observed. "How you do--ah--bounce at one, so to
speak. What is the matter?"
"Matter? I cal'late we both know what's the matter, but what _I_ want to
know is if it's goin' to keep ON bein' the matter. Is it all right? Have
you fixed it up?"
"Fixed what up? And PLEASE speak lower. Yes, and don't--ah--bounce, if
you don't mind."
"I won't, honest I won't. But have you fixed up Miss Martha's trouble;
you and them Bancroft folks, I mean? Have you, Mr. Bangs?"
"Bancroft folks?... How did you know I--"
"I seen it, of course. 'Twas in that note you left on the table."
"Note? Why, Primmie, that note was for Miss Phipps. Why did you read
it?"
"Why wouldn't I read it? There 'twas laid out on the table when I came
down to poke up the fire and set the kettle on. There wasn't no name on
it, so 'twan't till I'd read it clear through that I knew 'twas for Miss
Martha. It said: 'Have gone to Boston to see--er--what's-his-name and
Somebody-else and--' Never mind, Bancroft's all I remember, anyhow. But
it said you'd gone to them folks to see about 'stock matter.' Well, then
I knew 'twas for Miss Martha. _I_ didn't have no stock matters for folks
to see about. My savin' soul, no! And then you said, 'Hope to settle
everything and have good news when I come back.
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