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Maybe Evie'll feel lonesome too when I tell her. Still, these things are part of the game, and I can't weaken on 'em. It's these toughs around I'm worrying 'll scare her. I was kind of wondering if you'd " "You don't need to worry a thing." Nan's smile was full of a staunch reassurance. And her readiness came with a spontaneity which had nothing to do with Jeff's wife.
You're going to help me, dear, aren't you? I've talked to Bud and Nan, and fixed things so you won't be lonesome. Nan's promised to sleep in the house with you, so you shan't feel that way. Or you could go over to her. It's just one night, that's all." It may have been his obvious sincerity, it may have been that the woman's objections were really the result of disappointment only.
Most men," she added drily, "Regard coaling up the fire as a damned nuisance rather than a 'history of homage." "It oughtn't to be idealistic." There was a faint note of wistfulness in Nan's voice. "Why should everything that is beautiful be invariably termed 'idealistic'? Oh, there are ten thousand things I'd like altered in this world of ours!" "Of course there are.
Do you, Nan?" he went on to the girl again. Nan laughed. It was all she wanted to do. "Not a notion, Jeff. I handed you all Daddy gave me. How much was it, Daddy?" "Five hundred." Nan's eyes widened in alarm. "Five hundred? And I bet it all on Sassafras!" "And you've won nearly five thousand," cried Jeff, stirred completely out of himself at the girl's success.
"Oh, I didn't know!" Rhoda Gray was on her knees beside the bed. There was no room to question the truth of the woman's words, it was in Gypsy Nan's eyes, in the struggling, labored voice. "Yes." Gypsy Nan clutched at the shawl around her neck, and shivered. "I thought I might be all right to-day, and that I'd get better. But I didn't. And now I've got about a chance in a hundred. I know.
Nan's old custom of following him had been neglected for some time, since she had found that the appearance of a tall young woman had quite a different effect upon a household from that of a little child.
They had nothing to do with Skarbolov's, that was certain; but the words came back now insistently. "Seven-three-nine." What did "seven-three-nine" mean? She shook her head helplessly. Well, what did it matter? She dismissed further consideration of it. She repeated to herself Gypsy Nan's directions for finding the spring of the secret drawer.
She felt that she could not, could not tell him the things he was demanding of her. But again came his demand, and in the tone of it was a sound of peevish impatience. "What happened after Nan? I need to know." "It all came of a rush. I can't just tell it right." The man's eyes closed again. He remained silent so long that Nan's apprehensions reawakened.
The doctor stopped his horse suddenly to show Nan some flowers which grew at the roadside, some brilliant cardinals, and she climbed quickly down to gather them. There was an unwritten law that they should keep watch, one to the right hand, and the other to the left, and such treasures of blossoms or wild fruit seldom escaped Nan's vision.
Through the shadows of the long night he lay with wide staring eyes, gazing at the vision which would not vanish the face of the woman he loved cold, white, pulseless, terrible in its beauty, dead. The longer Stuart wrestled with the problem of Nan's yielding to the lure of Bivens's gold the more hideous and hopeless it became.
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