"Try it wid wan eye instid," said he, putting on a brogue to match her own. She laughed and escaped, and, later, read the letter, at his wish.
LUNDI DEAR:
I grieve to hurt you, but it is no use pretending. I can never live in this atrocious Africa, and I feel it would be cruel to tear you away from a country you love so much. Besides, after deep consideration, I find that my darling husband's memory is dearer to me than any living man can be. Forgive me—and farewell.
MARICE.
"She left by the morning's train," said the nurse. "You know she has been well enough to go for more than a week."
As Lundi did not answer, she went away and left him once more sitting very still. But with what a different stillness! The whole world smelled sweet in his nostrils and spoke of freedom. His blood chanted a paean of praise and hope to the sun and moon and stars. An old cry of the open surged in him.
"Life is sweet, brother! There is day and night, brother, both sweet things, sun, moon, and stars, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind on the heath!"
The voice of Tryon broke in on his communings.
"How do you feel, old man?"
"That you, Dick?" Druro stooped down and felt for Toby once more. "I feel inclined to run out into the street and throw my hat into the air, and yell out that I'll fight any one, play poker against any one, and match my girl and my dog against all comers."