Her voice trailed away into a plaintive moan.
"Let me take hold of yer hand, brat," murmured Andy. "I want to tell ye somethin'."
He clasped one of her hands in his, while her free fingers shaded her eyes.
"You got three folks standin' by you, kid," continued Andy, earnestly. "Me, Young an' Jesus. While I been alone in the garret, all this time, I been readin' an' a reasonin' out things. Don't ye remember when Mr. Young come that night how he said he didn't blame ye fer nothin' ye'd done?"
Beneath the tense fingers, she breathed a simple, "Yes."
"An' me—why me—I know yer heart's if I'd made it, honey, an' Jesus—Air ye listening Tess?"
"Sure," assented Tess.
"Then I'll tell ye a story. Once a woman loved a man awful much, an' she loved 'im like all women love men folks. An' a hull lot of righteous ones dragged 'er right up to Jesus an' says, 'She air a sinner, sir, what'll we do with 'er?' An' he says, 'Go away an' leave 'er with me.'"
Tessibel's hand clutched at the fingers holding hers.
"An' when he were alone with 'er," went on the dwarf, "an' she were a kneelin' at 'is feet, he jest touched her lovin' like, an' says—"