"Yes, dad. I'll make some boneset liquor now."
"Yes, yes," he said, with childish eagerness and a weak, wild smile.
"That's it—that's it."
She was about to rise, but he caught her shoulder. "I bin a good dad to ye, hain't I, Liddy?" he whispered.
"Always."
"Never had no ma but Manette, did ye?"
"Never, dad."
"What danged liars they be!" he said, chuckling. She kissed him, and moved away to the fire to pour hot water and whisky on the herbs.
His eyes followed her proudly, shining like wet glass in the sun. He laughed—such a wheezing, soundless laugh!
"He! he! he! I ain't no—durn—fool—bless—the Lord!" he said.