"Yeth, thir," said Vinie, with large eyes. "And that you cut yourself?"
"That, too. Everything, Vinie, except that, coming along the main road, I stopped a moment at the gate to say how d'ye do, and to tell you that Tom would be at home in two or three days. That is all, and my coming into the house and the rest of it never was. Do you understand?"
"I won't say anything at all, thir."
"It's a promise?"
"Yeth, thir. I promise."
They went out into the porch together. "Ithn't there anything else?"
Rand, studying in silence the clouds and the whirling dust, had started down the step or two to the path between the marigolds. He paused. "I can't think of anything, Vinie"; then, after a moment, and very oddly, "Would you give me, once more, a cup of cool water?"
Vinie brought it in her hand. "You always thaid this water washed the dust off clean."
Rand drank, and gave back the cup. "Thank you. I'll go on now. How your vine has borne this year!"
"Yeth. I'm going to make some wine this week. Good-bye."