Short Fiction · Trooping with Crows (4/5) (2/3) (2/2)

“Poor child, she is worn out!” said Captain Ivie with something of remorse in his tone. Then he went to the narrow window, and by what little light was left scribbled a few hasty lines on a leaf of his pocketbook. This he held out to Lettice. “The man downstairs will take it. Will you read what I’ve written, Miss Tremarten,” he said, “and tell me if there’s anything else to say to your aunts?”