“No,” she said slowly. “Nothin' but—but what I might have expected.”
“But what is it? It is bad news. Can't I help you? Please let me, if I can. I—I'd like to.”
She looked at him strangely, and then turned away. “I guess nobody can help me,” she answered. “Least of all, you.”
“Why not? I'd like to; honest, I would. If it's about that house business maybe I—”
“It ain't”
“Then what is it? Please, Emeline. I know you don't think much of me. Maybe you've got good reasons; I'm past the place where I'd deny that. I—I've been feelin' meaner'n meaner every day lately. I—I don't know's I done right in runnin' off and leavin' you the way I did. Don't you s'pose you could give me another chance? Emeline, I—”
“Seth Bascom, what do you mean?”
“Just what I say. Emeline, you and me was mighty happy together once. Let's try it again. I will, if you will.”
She was staring at him in good earnest now.
“Why, Seth!” she exclaimed. “What are you talkin' about? You—the chronic woman-hater!”