He returned an hour later. Mamie was still sitting by the stove.
“It's all fixed up,” he said, shaking the snow from his coat. “You're going over to Cartier's. They've got a big room for you, and he's going to see that you get moved all right. You can take your meals right in the house. And 'twon't cost you hardly anything. Now, you just drop them blues and we'll see if we can't get you fatter 'n you ever was. You're a-going to have a good time yet this winter. And Bruce 'll come down Sundays. I've got to get the train. Guess I might's well start along.” She got up slowly and followed him to the door. Neither knew what to say. Hunch buttoned his ulster and drew on one of his big fur mittens. He looked at his hand, big and freckled, with hard, knotted fingers and broken nails. He held it out hurriedly and said, “Well—good-by.”
She took his hand shyly. Suddenly she bent down and kissed it, and a tear dropped on it. Hunch pulled his hand away.
“Oh, don't do that——”
She looked up into his face. She did not seem to care now if he saw her crying.
Hunch forgot that he had shaken hands and he took hers again, this time with his mitten on. Then he opened the door and hurried out. She stood at the window looking after him as he walked down the street, but he did not turn around.
CHAPTER XIII—A DARK DAY AT LIDDINGTON
BRUCE came down to the station in the evening, and was standing on the platform when Hunch stepped off the train. They walked up together and were half-way to the room, before Bruce said, “Say, Hunch, how about it?”