"Uh. Yore ma around?"
"She's gone to bed." Still the dark head was not raised.
He misunderstood both her brevity and the following silence. He left his hat on the washbench outside the door and stepped into the kitchen.
"Don't take it so to heart, Molly," he said, awkwardly.
"It's hard, but—Shucks, lookit, I've got something to tell you."
In very truth he had something to tell her but he had not meant to tell her so soon.
"Lemme take care of you, Molly—dear. You know I love you, and—"
"Stop!" Molly turned to him an expressionless face. She looked at him steadily. "You say you love me?" she went on.
"Shore I say it." He was plainly puzzled at her reception of what he had said. Girls did not act this way in books.
"How about that—that other girl? Marie, I think her name is."