fore she had said half she had stored up through the day, before Henry had more than begun to talk, he pushed back his plate, drank his tea, and said : "Well, I must be getting to work." Then he wnt out to the shed and forgot her in the absorbing interest of the automobile.
"Oh, when is it going to be finished!" she said one night, after she had been sitting for a long time in silence, watching him at work on it. She began the sentence cheerfully, but she caught her breath at the end and began to cry. "I c-can't help it, I'm sorry. I w-want to go home to Greenfield!" she said.
Ford was testing the steering gear. He dropped his tools in surprise, and went over to comfort her.
"There, there!" he said, I suppose patting her back clumsily, in the awkward way of a man unaccustomed to quieting a sobbing woman. "It's done now. It's practically done now. It just needs a little more"
She interrupted him. She said his horrid old engine was always "just needing a little more." She said she wanted him to take her back to Greenfield. Wouldn't he please, just for a little while, take her home to Greenfield?
