"I'll sit up with her," said Quin. "You'd only send some cursed white woman with notions."
"Maybe," said Jupp, "they frequently have 'em incurably."
Quin's face was white and hard. He stood up and looked across the bed.
"I tell you this little girl is as good as any white woman in town, Jupp."
Jupp took snuff habitually; he took some now.
"Who the devil said she wasn't?" he asked drily. He left the room.
It was early morning before Jenny became conscious, and even then Quin had great trouble with her. For she was very sick. There was no end to his patience. Nor was there any to Sam's. The boy sat outside on the mat all night.
"My askee Missus no tellee Boss my go playee Fan-tan," he said nervously.
At bright dawn Jenny found Quin half-dozing with his head on the quilt under her hand. She touched his hair tenderly, and he woke up.
"Tchorch," she said feebly, with a heavenly smile, "Tchorch!"