“She shook her head, ‘I can’t go without my parcel,’ she said. ‘Did Clara perhaps put it in the trunk for you?’ ‘No, but I can’t go without it.’ She ran upstairs again and soon came back clasping a wooden box tied up with knotted string like the trunk.”
“Well, though Jane, if she doesn’t ask me, I’ll have to ask her.′ ‘What’s your name?’ she said. ‘Clara Pringle. This is my brother. Brud, we call him.’ ‘Oh...’ said Jane. Now you ask me, she thought. And after watching Jane for a while in silence, Clara did ask her.”