"The natives have foolish ways of saying things. ” Mrs. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. She crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who understood. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. He said simply that he wanted her to live at home. David Courtlaw. She took Mr.
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