"It was some time before I could get him to move. Always I have said I will take care of myself, and I have done so. "Take me, then," replied the widow. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. When it's done, I'll push you through. These joyful bounds just lace into the stuff of my memories and stay there forever. Probably a sick man's whim.
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