"Perhaps. Perhaps," he said.
She leaned toward him, in her face the strength of a man.
"I 'd work," she said, "I 'd work my fingers to the bone if I had a chance to get back there. I 'm strong 'nuff to take care of a place. If I only had just a tiny strip of land—just 'nuff fer a garden. I could get some chickens an' pay off little by little. I 'm good for ten years yet an' by thet time Bobby would be old 'nough to take hold. If I only had a chance I could do it!"
Her cheeks had taken on color. She looked like one inspired. Donaldson sat dumb in admiration of her splendid courage.
"How long," he asked, "how long would it take you to get ready to leave here?"
She scarcely understood. She didn't dare to understand for fear it might be a mistake.
"I mean," he said, "if you had a chance to go back to the farm how long would it take you to pack up?"
"You don't mean if—if I really had the chance?"
He nodded.
"Lord, if I had the chance—if I really had the chance, I 'd leave afore to-morrer night."