“I’m busy,” was her curt answer.
“Ciss, I want a good-bye before I go.”
“Well, the door is open—Good-bye.”
He halted at the entrance, hesitated a while, and then said: “You will be pleased to hear, Ciss, that the good-bye I asked for is one for ever.”
She dropped the potato she was peeling, but did not look at him; she took up the potato again.
“I’m thinking of leaving—going to America.”
She did not answer for a while, but as he waited for an observation, she said, “Indeed. Hope you’ll enjoy yourself there.”
“I am not going there to enjoy myself, but because—well, Ciss—I can’t feel any joy here in the old country.”
“You seem merry enough.”