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Its in the country but I wont tell you where deerie or you mite try to see me and I dont think I cood stand it the way I feel now. But I love you just as much. Good-by. Yure affecshunate Sadie." Win was overwhelmed. Lately she had seen little of her friend. Neither girl had much time, and the weather had drunk all their energy. She ought to have guessed from Sadie's thinness that she was ill.
"Ay! ay!" he said, looking over his shoulder at Arnold, "gae to your deerie! gae to your deerie! and leave a' the solid business o' life to Me. Ye've Screepture warrant for it. My certie! 'cleave' is a strong word there's nae sort o' doot aboot it, when it comes to 'cleaving!" He wagged his head thoughtfully, and walked to the side-table in a corner, to cut the bread.
Skag pushed him away. Carlin was moaning. "I'm thinking your lad's sound, deerie," M'Cord called to her. "A minute more, to be sure." . . . He kept a trailing hold of Skag's wrist, staring a last minute in his eyes. No break anywhere in the younger man's flesh. The afterglow was thickening. A servant came down the path to call them to dinner.
"I'm afraid I have," Winifred replied in a strange, withdrawn voice which made Daisy Thompson's eyes widen. "Say! I'm real sorry! I hope it ain't your beau." Win did not answer, because she did not hear. Sadie! Sadie! The dear little old sardine! "Good-bye, deerie," she read again. "I coodn't of said this to yure fase. I only noo for shure yesterdy.
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