“Don’t be a fool, Wilson,” she replied. “My mother is ill, and I have been sent for.”
“Your mother? You never told me you had a mother.”
“But I have, though I don’t care to talk about her to you. She needs me, and I am going.”
He was still suspicious.
“Are you telling me the truth? Will you come back?”
“You know I’ll come back,” she said. “I shall have to,” she added with a weary sigh.
“Yes, you’ll have to. You can’t get along without it. You’ll come back all right—I’ll see to that!”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“How much snow you got home?” he demanded.
“You know I keep scarcely any there. I forgot my case to-day—left it in my desk, so I had a little there—a couple of shots, maybe.”