“I dunno, Peggy. It’s done. There ain’t anythin’ I can do to make it any different than it is. What’s the use of me sayin’ I’m sorry? I’ve been to hell since that night, and it’s a rough road. But I just want yuh to tell me good-bye. It ain’t much to ask, even after what I’ve done. Just a good-bye, Peggy.”
But she did not speak. Joe’s face was the colour of wood ashes as he turned and went down the steps to his horse. For several moments he leaned against his horse, looking back at her, but she had not moved. She was just a huddled heap in the old chair. The sunlight slanted under a corner of the porch, striking across her hair.
He shut his lips tightly, swung into the saddle and rode slowly away. Peggy stirred. Laura had come to the doorway. She had been inside the living-room, listening.
“Where are you going, Joe?” asked Peggy softly. It was hardly more than a whisper. Laura looked curiously at her, wondering.
“You’re not going away—to stay, Joe?” said Peggy.
“He’s gone, Peggy,” said Laura. “Didn’t you know?”
Peggy looked up quickly, blinking the tears from her eyes, staring at Laura.
“Gone?” she asked.
“My dear, he went away after he asked you to tell him good-bye,” said Laura. “Didn’t you know he went away?”
“I didn’t know, Laura.”