"She's right smart better," Ben growled.
"She is!"
"Um."
Then Ben explained. "Women's nerves is like plants—they needs water. I've been wishin' this long time that Ann's would get rained on.... She's jest naturally cried herself to sleep."
"And you think it's done her good?" Baird asked doubtfully.
"I do.... When she asks me to fetch her the lookin'-glass, I'll rest easy."
Baird felt rather than saw the twinkle in Ben's eyes, and he laughed from sheer relief, the first time he had laughed in weeks.
He went on to the club and wrote to Dempster, asking him for a month's vacation. "You see," Baird wrote, "the girl I love and mean to marry—if I can get her—has been next door to death. There seems to be a chance for her now, and a month will mean a lot to me."