“You can’t know,” I snapped. “I didn’t know myself until I got there, and I

haven’t mentioned it to a soul yet. If that girl Annie knows, she must be a

clairvoyant.”

 

“It wasn’t Annie who told me. It was the milkman. He had it from the Ferrars’

cook.”

 

As I say, there is no need for Caroline to go out to get information.

 

She sits at home, and it comes to her.

 

My sister continued:

 

“What did she die of? Heart failure?”

 

“Didn’t the milkman tell you that?” I inquired sarcastically.

 

Sarcasm is wasted on Caroline. She takes it seriously and answers accordingly.

 

“He didn’t know,” she explained.

 

After all, Caroline was bound to hear sooner or later. She might as well hear

from me.