Lord,
but I seem to have made a mistake! And, by the same token, I'll
probably pay for it--in a way you wouldn't understand if you lived a
thousand years. Well, set your mind at rest. I'll take you out. I'll
take you back to your stamping-ground if that's what you crave. Ye
gods and little fishes, but I have sure been a fool!"
He sat down on the edge of the table, and Hazel blinked at him, half
scared, and full of wonder. She had grown so used to seeing him calm,
imperturbable, smiling cheerfully no matter what she said or did, that
his passionate outbreak amazed her. She could only sit and look at him.
He got out his cigarette materials. But his fingers trembled, spilling
the tobacco. And when he tore the paper in his efforts to roll it, he
dashed paper and all into the fireplace with something that sounded
like an oath, and walked out of the house. Nor did he return till the
sun was well down toward the tree-rimmed horizon. When he came back he
brought in an armful of wood and kindling, and began to build a fire.
Hazel came out of her room. Bill greeted her serenely.
"Well, little person," he said, "I hope you'll perk up now."
"I'll try," she returned.
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