Kŭt-o-yĭs´ said to the old woman, "Now, grandmother, go into this snake lodge and take it for your own and everything that is in it.",
Mona, sinking languidly into a chair, turns the note over and over between her fingers, whilst wondering in a disjointed fashion as to whom it can be from. She guesses vaguely at the writer of it, as people will when they know a touch of the hand and a single glance can solve the mystery.,
Perhaps, could she only know how charmingly becoming this style of headdress is to her flower-like face, she would not have blushed at all..
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