She nodded. "Yes, alone for many years."
He understood now, and, running his hands into his pockets, he pulled forth a half dollar, and handed it to her. She accepted it with many thanks, and gave him then, some pictures and relics.
"I suppose you have many visitors—tourists?" he inquired, starting toward the door.
"Well, no, I do not," she said, somewhat regretfully. "The people do not seem to wander down into this section. They do not appear curious for relics, as they used to be."
"That's too bad—for you," he said kindly.
"It is, since I am old, and have no other way of getting my living," and she sighed.
"How old are you?"
"Eighty-nine."
"And you have no—no children?" he asked now, with curious interest.
"None. And that—and that, perhaps, is why I'm like I am today...."