_Phoebe_ (_sulkily_). I won't finish my stint. Aunt Corey set me too
long a stint. I won't. Oh, there she is now! [_Knits busily._

_Enter_ Ann Hutchins.

_Olive_ (_rising_). Well done, Ann. I was but now wishing to see
you. Sit you down and lay off your cloak. Why, how pale you look,
Ann! Are you sick?

_Ann._ You know best.

_Olive._ I? Why, what mean you, Ann?

_Ann._ You know what I mean, in spite of your innocent looks. Oh,
open your eyes wide at me, if you want to! Perhaps you don't know
what makes them bigger and bluer than they used to be.

_Olive._ Ann!

_Ann._ Oh, I mean nothing. I am not sick. Something frightened me
as I came through the wood.

_Olive._ Frightened you! Why, what was it?

_Phoebe._ Oh, what was it, Ann?

_Ann._ I know not; something black that hustled quickly by me and
raised a cold wind.