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"Did anybody get married last night?" The leash of forgetfulness was snapping, strand by strand. Troubled remembrance peered out from behind the philosophic calm in Ford's eyes. "Unh-hunh." Sandy turned a leaf and at the same time flicked the ashes from his cigarette with a mechanical finger movement. "You did." He looked briefly up from the page.
Tomaso's brother sat his sweaty horse beside Johnny and eyed both the gazer and the object of his gaze. A smile split whitely the swarthiness of Tomaso's brother's face. "She's settin' there jus' like I told," he pointed out with a wilted kind of triumph, for the day was hot. "Unh-hunh," Johnny conceded absent-mindedly.
"Some stranger that blew in here with a license and the preacher and said you was her fee-ancy." "Are you sure of that?" Ford looked up from under lowering eyebrows. "Unh-hunh that's what you done, all right." Sandy's voice was dishearteningly positive. "Lordy me!" gasped Ford under his breath. There was a silence which slid Sandy's interest back into his book.
"You're a wonderful housekeeper, Emarine," he said. Then his face grew grave. "Got a present for your mother yet, Emarine?" "Oh, yes, long ago. I got 'er a black shawl down t' Charman's. She's b'en wantin' one." He shuffled his feet about a little. "Unh-hunh. Yuh that is I reckon yuh ain't picked out any present fer fer my mother, have yuh, Emarine?" "No," she replied, with cold distinctness.
There was a long pause, then the visitor inquired: "Are you lying?" "Unh-hunh!" Again silence claimed both men until Tom broke out, irritably: "Well, you aim to set here all night?" "Sure! I ain't sleepy. I don't mind a little mist and I'm plenty warm." This cheerful assertion was belied by the miserable quaver in which it was voiced. "Why don't you-er-run over to my tent?"
He's big enough to see that he isn't altogether clear of guilt himself, for sending you off the way he did. Anyway, that pulls you out of it. The phantom herd and rider pass over the sky line some night Lord, I can see what a picture I can get out of that! and out of your life." "Unh-hunh that's a heap better than your first story, Luck."
Finally she inquired: "Do you ever feel a queer, gnawing feeling, like hunger, if you go without your breakfast?" "Unh-hunh! Don't you?" "I wouldn't alarm you for the world, Uncle Tom " "I ain't your uncle!" "You might chew the stuff for years and not feel any bad effects, but if you wake up some morning feeling tired and listless " "I've done that, too."
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