Joe shook his head.
“No, I can’t stay, Hozie.”
“Nobody asked yuh to, did they?”
“No. Is Peggy here yet?”
“No, she ain’t, Joe,” softly. “They went home last night—her and Jim and Laura Hatton. Jim thought it was best. Emma tried to get ’em to stay a while, but they kinda wanted to be at home, where there wouldn’t be anybody to ask questions.”
“To ask questions!” echoed Joe. “That’s the worst of it.”
“I dunno,” sighed Hozie. “It’s the first weddin’ I ever seen that raveled right out thataway. Honey Bee showed up with his coat in one hand and his shoes in the other. He shore was the worst-lookin’ best man I ever seen.”
“Poor old Honey.”
“Yeah, yuh ought to feel sorry for somebody, Joe. I don’t sabe yuh; by ⸺, I don’t! I thought I knew yuh, but I reckon I don’t. I ain’t said what I think about yuh to anybody. Mebbe I ain’t had no chance; so many folks has said what they thought about it that I’ve kinda got their ideas and mine all tangled up. Mebbe after while I’ll git my own ideas straightened up to where I know they’re all mine, I’ll look ’em over.”
“I suppose they’d like to hang me, Hozie.”