When the last one was lost to view, Tom, who had loitered about, went into the cabin.
The man was sitting in the empty room, his gaze fixed upon the two chairs left standing in the middle of it a few paces from each other.
Tom moved them away and then approached him.
“The child has been taken to my house,” he said. “You don’t want to see it?”
“No.”
“Is there anything else I can do?”
“No, nothing else,” monotonously.
“Are you going away?”
“Yes—to-night.”
Tom glanced around him at the desolation of the poor, bare little place, at the empty bed, and the small trunk at the foot of it.