“Sometimes.”
The smile died out of the man’s eyes, and his big face became doleful.
“Yes, I s’pose it is.”
Helen set up.
“What’s gone wrong—now? What truth is—absurd?” she demanded.
The man shrugged.
“Oh, everything. Say, have you ever heard of a disease of the—the brain called ‘partly hatched’?”
The girl’s eyes twinkled.
“I don’t kind of remember it.”
“No, I don’t s’pose you do. I don’t think anybody ever has it but me. I’ve got it bad. This valley’s given it me, and—and if it isn’t careful it’s going to get fatal.”