"Yes—where the dead sleep. I get the red berries most. That's the blood of the dead, come to life again."
The quaking, crazy voice from below caused Fairchild to shiver with a sudden cold that no warmth could eradicate. Still, however, he lay there listening, fearful that every move from below might bring a cessation of their conversation. But Rodaine talked on.
"Of course, I know. But I 've spoiled that now. There's another way, Laura. Get that spade. See, the dirt's soft here. Dig a hole about four feet deep and six or seven feet long. Then put half that lime from the barrel in there. Understand?"
"What for?"
"It's the only way now; we 'll have to do that. It's the other way to immortality. You 've given him the herbs?"
"Yes."
"Then this is the end. See? Now do that, won't you, Honey?"
"You'll kiss me, Roady?"
"There!" The faint sound of a kiss came from below. "And there's another one. And another!"
"Just like the night our boy was born. Don't you remember how you bent over and kissed me then and held me in your arms?"