I'll have
a good hour to do it in, and still make my escape in good time.
Nobody will ever know; nobody can see me here."
Nancy went in, threw off her hat, and seized a broom.
The first thing she did was to give the kitchen a thorough sweeping.
Then she kindled a fire, put a kettle full of water on to heat,
and attacked the dishes. From the number of them she rightly
concluded that Peter hadn't washed any for at least a week.
"I suppose he just uses the clean ones as long as they
hold out, and then has a grand wash-up," she laughed.
"I wonder where he keeps his dish-towels, if he has any."
Evidently Peter hadn't any. At least, Nancy couldn't find any.
She marched boldly into the dusty sitting-room and explored
the drawers of an old-fashioned sideboard, confiscating a
towel she found there. As she worked, she hummed a song;
her steps were light and her eyes bright with excitement.
Nancy was enjoying herself thoroughly, there was no doubt of that.
The spice of mischief in the adventure pleased her mightily.
The dishes washed, she hunted up a clean, but yellow and evidently long
unused tablecloth out of the sideboard, and proceeded to set the table
and get Peter's tea. She found bread and butter in the pantry,
a trip to the cellar furnished a pitcher of cream, and Nancy recklessly
heaped the contents of her strawberry jug on Peter's plate.
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