P. tent, they
were so long.
"'Fwhat do you do here?' she sez, word by word, 'that have taken
away my joy in my man this five years gone - that have broken my
rest an' killed my body an' damned my soul for the sake av seem'
how 'twas done? Did your expayrience aftherwards bring you acrost
any woman that gave more than I did? Wud I not ha' died for you
an' wid you, Ellis? Ye know that, man! If ever your lyin' sowl saw
truth in uts life ye know that.'
"An' Love-o'-Women lifted up his head and said, 'I knew,' an' that
was all. While she was spakin' the Power hild him up parade-set in
the 'sun, an the sweat dhropped undher his helmet. 'Twas more an'
more throuble for him to talk, an' his mouth was runnin'
twistways.
"Fwhat do you do here?' she sez, an' her voice whit up. 'Twas like
bells tollin' before. 'Time was whin you were quick enough wid
your words, - you that talked me down to hell. Are ye dumb now?'
An' Love-o'-W omen got his tongue, an' sez simple, like a little
child, 'May I come in?' he sez.
"The house is open day an' night,' she sez, wid a laugh; an' Love-
o'-Women ducked his head an' hild up his hand as tho' he was
gyardin'. The Power was on him still - it hild him up still, for,
by my sowl, as I'll never save ut, he walked up the verandah steps
that had been a livin' corpse in hospital for a month!
"'An' now'?' she sez, lookin' at him; an' the red paint stud lone
on the white av her face like a bull's-eye on a target.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56