She was white as a ghost—I never seen anyone as white as she was. She didn't know I was there, and she threw her hands up to her face and almost screamed when I moved. Then she went over to our rawhide lounge and set down, and held her hands together so tight I could see her knuckles was white. She knew I was there, but she didn't seem to see me.
I didn't say a word. When a woman's fighting out things in that way it ain't no time to meddle. I wisht I was out of there, but I didn't dare go. She set and looked at the fire and wrung her hands. Whenever you see a horse wring his tail, he's done for. Whenever you see a woman wring her hands that way, she's all in; and she's shore suffering. But I had to stay there and see her suffer.
"Bonnie," says I, "what is it?"
She turns her eyes on me, and they was wide open and awful.
"Curly," says she, "I'm in trouble. It's awful! I don't know——"
"What's awful?" says I. "What's happened, Bonnie, girl? Tell old Curly, and he won't say a word to a living soul. I'm in with you, any sort of play—only don't look that way no more."
"Curly," says she, "it's come! I—I didn't know——"
"What's come?" says I. "Tell old Curly, can't you? I'll help all I can."
She set for a while, and when she spoke it was only in a whisper.
"I—I'm a woman!" says she. "I didn't know! I'm—I'm a woman. I'm not a girl any more. I'm a woman...."