Then he was silent for a time and worked industriously to bring back into her hands the warmth that had fled.
Suddenly he asked Sam in an eager, anxious whisper, “Do yees belave she’d do wrong?”
“No!” Sam promptly replied.
“Naither do I. Indade she’s as swate an’ innocint a lady as wan ave hivin’s angels. Sure, she cudn’t do wrong at all, at all.”
“Not at all!” responded Sam gravely.
“An’ the mister shud ave better sinse than to trate her so unkind, don’t yees think so now?”
“Thorpe is a damned fool, I guess!” Sam answered gloomily.
“Indade, I do belave it, too, so I do!”
Again there was silence. Again it was broken by Smith, who said in a low, confidential tone: “I’ll tell yees, I belave it do be some attracious divil ave come betwain thim.”
“You do!” Sam snapped at him, as though he interpreted Smith’s allusion a direct reference to Virginia.