“You can go to-morrow, Wen Ho,” she said.
“You no wait for Mr. Gael come back? He say he come back.”
“No. I’m not going to wait. I guess”—here Joan twisted her mouth into a smile—“I’m not one of the waiting kind. I’m a-going back to my own ranch now. It won’t seem so awful lonesome, perhaps, as I was thinking last spring that it would.”
She touched the envelope without looking at it.
“Is this money, Wen Ho?”
“I tink so, lady.”
She held it, unopened, out to him.
“I will give it to you, then. I have no need of it.”
“I am going out now to climb up this mountain back of the house so’s I can see just where I am. I’ll come down to-night for dinner and to-morrow after breakfast I’ll be going away. You understand?”