"I was afraid—for a moment," she said. "I was all wrought up and troubled about you, and not quite myself."
"I knowed you never meant to show hit, never would unless you was compelled to some way; that was why I laid my plans to make you show hit—I felt like I ought to, before I took you off."
"You laid your plans to make me show it? How so?" she asked, in astonishment. "I fear I don't understand."
He laughed easily. "Oh, nothing; just by working on your feelings a little grain."
"Working on my feelings? When?"
"That last day on the hill."
"When you sang to me, and showed such sorrow at giving me up?"
"Yes," he said.
"Do you mean to say you were not really sad or suffering that day—that you put it all on, just to see the effect on me?"
"How could I be sad and suffering," he asked, "when I never for one minute aimed to be parted from you, or to give you up? I had my plans fixed even then to take you." He laughed delightedly. "But I allowed I'd just see how things really was with you, before I finally did."