But words came again. “I wish ... I wish ... I never had to hyar that old whistle agin....”
She hung in his hands.
“Glory!” He tried to make her stand on her feet; he even gave her the tiniest shake, in his terror.
“Gloriana-Virginia!” He must have shouted, for there was the sudden patter of hasty feet upstairs, on the stairs, coming down; a heavy scurrying in from the kitchen, a wail of negro woe.
“Glory!”
“Fo’ de Lawd! Glory!”
And drifting back, very faintly, as if the accordion was moving off, motivated by old Pap’s stumbling steps——
“Far ... far ... a-way....”
CHAPTER XVII
Young Peter sees something he never saw before, and Glen finds that her theory about herself was wrong.
NEVER before in all his life had he seen death. When his father died he was away at school, and by the time he reached home the primal mystery was merged in funeral solemnities. He had left a brisk, genial gentleman who had very little time for anything, and he came back to find a white and silent personage lying in chill state who appeared to have time and to spare, but the actual transition escaped him.