But April suddenly appeared.
“What’s all dis?” he asked, looking straight at the Reverend, with a glitter in his eyes.
“Your wife—ah—Mistress Locust—has—ah—met with a little accident——”
“Didn’ Uncle Bill hand you a dipper o’ lemonade?”
“Why, yes, Brother Locust.”
“How come you didn’ drink em? Don’ you be brotherin’ me, either.”
“Why—ah, I’m really not thirsty, Mr. Locust.”
“You ain’ thirsty, eh?”
“Why, ah, no.”
April’s Sunday clothes made him look even taller than usual. His hair was newly cut, and his face shaved clean, except for a small mustache. He made a fine-looking, powerful figure to Breeze’s wide-stretched eyes.