” “Poor you!” said Ann Veronica. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. I feel years younger, a man again. ’ A laugh escaped her. Well, I've had to be. Would there be enough in the young man's envelope to pay the doctor and the hotel bill—and in the event of his death, enough to ship the body home? So all things pointed to the happy circumstance of setting this young fool upon his feet again, of seeing him hence upon his journey.
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