“Well, I am busy, leastwise too busy to be bothered with your nonsense.”
“It ain’t foolishness this time.”
Something in his tone made her look up into the face framed in the crack of the door.
“Josiah!” she cried at sight of the drawn features.
He threw open the door and entered.
“Mr. McGowan ain’t sick this morning, is he?” she asked.
“No. Leastwise he wa’n’t when I passed the time of night or early morning with him on my way to bed.”
“Are you sick, Josiah?”
“What I got might be called that, Clemmie. I’m sick of the hull damn round of life,” he said, despondently.