CHAPTER XV
HOW HE WON A WIFE
Three days passed, and they were much the same as before. Then, on a sunshiny morning, the sheriff strolled back from the bar of the Fashion to glance into the dining-room, minded to seek another interview. Hetty was sitting by a window. Her face was red and streaked with tears. She was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. He tiptoed out of the place.
At dinner Lafe was very brusque and stated his wants with sharpness. After the diners had departed: "It's a wonder"—pausing to strike a match—"it's a wonder that there fine young feller of yours don't come after you. Why don't you write to him?"
"What fine fellow of mine?"
"That stoodent feller. If he thought such a heap about you, he ought for to show it. Ain't you written to him?"
"Shut up," said Hetty.
"No, but honest—"
"Do you think I could write to him after going away without a word to—to marry a man I'd never set eyes on? You make me sick."