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What d'he say, Rookie? What d'you say to him?" Raven shook his head. He had no idea of inviting her into the psycho-analytic ward of Dick's mind. "Nan," he said, "the boy's unhappy. He's in love with you. No doubt about it." Nan, on her part, had nothing to say to this. "What made you change your dress?" asked Raven.

"D'he think 'twas goin' to be wormwood for a woman to find a man comin' all fixed up like courtin' time, to steal a minute's talk? You make me laugh." He did laugh, and the laugh, though it might have frightened her, made her the more sorry. She had the sense of keeping her hand on him, of holding him back from some rushing course that would be his own destruction. "Yes," she answered steadily.

"D'he look that way when you fust see him in New Yo'k?" Claxon gave his honesty time to get the better of his optimism. Even then he answered evasively, "He doos look pootty slim." "The way I cypher it out," said his wife, "he no business to let her marry him, if he wa'n't goin' to get well. It was throwin' of herself away, as you may say."

"If I catch him up to any of his tricks I'll break his head for him." "Maybe it would be a good thing for little Nance if you did." "Knew he was a toad as soon as I set eyes on him, so did Peter. Didn't you, Peter?" Peter nodded. "What d'he say to you?" demanded Tom. "Didn't say much. Asked if you were much away at the fishing and that. But the way he looked at me!