She could see his mouth twitch. She saw him catch his lower lip in under his teeth.
"Aw—"
"Say you couldn't leave, Benny; say it!"
"I—I fair hate this here farm!" He mumbled. "Morning and night;—and morning and night. Nothing but chores and earth. And then some more of them chores. And always that there way. So it is! Always! And the stillness! Nothing alive, nothing! Sometimes I ain't able to stand it nohow. Sometimes—!"
"You'll get to like it—; later, mebbe—"
"Naw! naw, maw!"
"You will, Benny. Sure you will."
"I won't never. I ain't able to help fretting. It's all closed up tight inside of me. Eating and eating. It makes me feel sick."
She put out a hand and laid it heavily on his shoulder.
"Likely it's a touch of fever in the blood, Benny."