Explore "Dead Men's Money" by J.S. Fletcher on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was my turn to stare again -- and stare I did, from one to the other in silence, and being far too much amazed to find ready speech. And before I could get my tongue once more, my mother, who was always remarkably sharp of eye, got her word in.
"What're you doing in that new suit of clothes? " she demanded. "And where's your own good clothes that you went away in yesterday noon? I misdoubt this stewardship's leading you into some strange ways!"