“Never mind that part of it.”
“But just as soon as I can get a dram of hot coffee in me I expect I’ll feel stronger and then I’ll be shoving along and not bother you any more. I reckin that long train ride and the excitement and everything must ’a’ took it out of me, some way. There was a time when it wouldn’t have bothered me at all—not a bit. Still, I’ll have to confess I’m getting along, ma’am. I’ll be eighty-four this coming ninth of August.”
“Listen to me: You’re not going to stir another inch tonight. You stay right here and tomorrow morning I’ll decide myself whether you’re fit to go trapesing off across to the other side of town.”
“Oh, ma’am, I couldn’t do that!”
“Why couldn’t you?”
“But, ma’am, are you taking in any visitors during the reunion?”
“I wasn’t aiming to.” Her voice was grim. “But I’m fixing now to do that very little thing, whether or no.”
“But honest, now—I—” He scuffled with his tired feet. “It’s mighty good and mighty sweet of you, ma’am, but I’d hate to impose on you like that.”
“No imposition. There’re five spare bedrooms in this house—and nobody in any of them. And nobody going to be in any of them, either, while you’re here—except you. I think you’ll be comfortable.”