“Nowhere in particular—that is, I have lived in a good many places.”
“Huh! ’bout as I expected; an’ I reckon you hain’t got nothin’ at all ter show fer it ‘cept what you’ve got on yore back.”
“That’s about all.”
“What you been a-follerin’?”
Laramore colored sensitively.
“Writing for papers and magazines.”
“I ‘lowed you mought go at some ‘n’ o’ that sort; you used to try mighty hard to write a good hand; you never would work. Married?”
“No.”
“Hain’t able to support a woman I reckon. Well, you showed a great lot of good sense thar; a feller can sorter manage to shift fer hisse’f ef he hain’t hampered by a pack o’ children an’ er sick woman.”
At that juncture Mary returned. She flushed as she caught Laramore’s expectant glance. She spoke to her father.