“Last mail in, Mis’ Bascomb?” “Last mail’s in, Tony.” “Be there anything for me to-night?” Widow Bascomb knew perfectly well there was not, but she reached for a small pile of letters in a pigeonhole on her right and glanced over them rapidly. Her sour visage and rasping voice softened perceptibly as she smiled on the little old man before her
“Last mail in, Mis’ Bascomb?” “Last mail’s in, Tony.” “Be there anything for me to-night?” Widow Bascomb knew perfectly well there was not, but she reached for a small pile of letters in a pigeonhole on her right and glanced over them rapidly. Her sour visage and rasping voice softened perceptibly as she smiled on the little old man before her