“Evenun, Mus’ Tom,” said Mrs. Honey.
“Evenun,” said Tom. “A packet of Player’s, please.”
Thyrza put it on the counter. “Any sweeties?”
“Yes. I’ll taake a quarter of bull’s-eyes and four-penn’orth of telephones. I woan’t leave them behind me this time”—and Tom grinned sheepishly.
“Your brothers and sisters ull miss you,” said Thyrza, poking with a knife at the sticky wedge of the bull’s-eyes.
“Not more’n I’ll miss them and the whole plaace.”
“I reckon it’s sad to say good-bye.”
“Unaccountable sad.”
Her eyes were fixed on him very tenderly. She was sorry for Tom Beatup—had always been a little sorry for him—she could not quite tell why.
“It’ll be a long time before I see you again, Thyrza.”