To this the poor woman did not reply. But two tears coursed down her pale cheeks, which she hastily wiped away with the corner of her apron. Andy Gresson saw them and gave a sniff.
"What are you crying about now? Ain't you glad to see me?"
"Yes, Andy. But I would be better pleased if you would remain at home, and try to clear your name of this suspicion attached to it."
"Well, some day I will, but not now. Have you got anything good to eat in the house? I'm most starved to death."
"There is some cold meat in the closet, and I can give you some bread and butter, and hot tea."
"Ain't there anything to drink in the cellar? Seems to me I left some bottled beer there when I went away."
"No, you drank up all there was the morning you—you had the trouble and ran away."
"Well, then let me have the other, although I despise tea and always did. You ought to set a good table for your husband after he's been away so long."
"I cannot afford a good table, Andy. You left me without a cent, and I do not get as much sewing as I used to."
"Why not?"
"I do not know."
"Folks down on you because they chased me
