"No, I'm worse than a thief. Don't go—just one moment, please. Sometime I may tell you. They think I like to work, but I hate it. In my thoughts I have committed a thousand murders with my hoe. Let me ask you a question, one laborer of another. Do you like me?"
"Very much," she answered, looking at him steadily.
"I thank the Lord for that much. We might help each other to—"
"No, our battles are apart."
"Oh, I didn't mean that. I mean we can help each other spiritually. Don't you think so?"
"We can all help one another spiritually," she said. "May I go now?" she asked, smiling.
"I wish I could keep you from going. Wait. I can't understand that you have labored in a field. You are the most graceful woman I ever saw—the most perfect lady couldn't discount you. You've got good blood. I believe in blood."
"I am of a good family," she said. "My father was once a man of some importance. But the world turned against him. Blood is all that saved me."
"I've got one more word to say, now that we are better acquainted. I jumped on a horse once and galloped away from you—out at the little town on the prairie. You don't remember me, but I do you."
"Galloped away from me!" she said in surprise. "Why did you do that?"