“I don’t want no room,” said Andy.
“I couldn’t stay away nights.” He looked at the paper with gloomy eye.
Uncle William wet the pencil with careful tongue and bent over the paper. His fingers traced a large, scrawling A. “There!” He leaned back, looking at it with satisfied gaze. “‘A and W’s room’—looks good, don’t it!” His face beamed on Andy.
The gloom relaxed a little. “It don’t mean nothing,” said Andy.
“Well, I do’ ’no’,” said Uncle William. “It sounds nice, and when things sound nice, seems ’s if they must mean suthin’—down underneath somewheres.”
“Huh!” said Andy.
XVII
THE real-estate man and Andy were out behind the barn. There was a glimpse of the harbor in the distance, and behind them the moor rose to the horizon.