“Well, they will be next week. She will be on toast and gruel all this one.”
“Oh—ah—yes, of course. Well, I am proud that she—ah—well—give her my best respects. I’ll get the jelly.”
“Mine, too,” said Shoshone. Then, as he saw that they were alone, Shoshone took a step or two nearer her, saying:
“You are the best woman God ever made, Angel. That’s what you are!”
“What makes you say that, Shoshone?”
“You won’t get mad if I tell you?”
“Why, no. What is it?”
“I know I’m kinder low-down and rough, Angel, but I hain’t never stole nobody’s hosses nor branded cattle that wan’t mine, and, as for drinking, I’m willing to stop that at once. I never cared for it, anyway, but what else is there to do, out here? Will you, Angel?”
“Will I what, Shoshone?”
“Now you won’t get mad at me?”