Then—
“Yuh look like you’d jist seen a ghost, Lila,” he said.
Ghost! She wondered if he had talked with Angel.
“You ain’t sick, are yuh, Lila?”
“Sick?” Her voice sounded hoarse. “I—I guess I am. I talked with Angel today.”
Old Rance peered closely at her, coming nearer.
“You talked with Angel, eh? What about, Lila?”
“About my—my parents.”
“Yea-a-ah?” The old man’s lips tightened and he rubbed the knuckles of his right hand along the filled loops of his cartridge-belt.
“He’s bitter,” she said, as though defending him.