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"Where's Polly?" I asked as I dropped the bucket down the well. "Did you pass by the blacksmith's?
"I spoke with her mother, with Mistress Logan," Mother answered softly, looking at her neat rows of carrots.
"And?" I waved a mosquito away from my face.
"It happened quickly. Polly sewed by candlelight after dinner. Her mother repeated that over and over, 'she sewed by candlelight after dinner.' And then she collapsed."
I released the handle and the bucket splashed, a distant sound.
"Matilda, Polly's dead."
252 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 2000

