Chapter 22 I READ MY OWN OBITUARY

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