to come between you and Sallie. Well, a girl that'll do what Fannie tried to do for you ain't the worst kind a man could hitch up to; I don't care what mistakes she's made before."
"Her wings are singed, Uncle Boley, but her heart's as good as they make 'em."
Uncle Boley went to his bench and took up his work. He drove holes and he stitched, with his wax-end on his beard, and said nothing for a long time. Texas stood in the door, his temples throbbing, his world absolutely empty. Even the great work ahead of him seemed to have no purpose and no flavor now. But it must be finished, giving him a clean passport when he should turn his face away from that place to come back no more.
"It'll strike deep in Sallie," Uncle Boley said in time. "I don't think she'll ever overlook this. Well, I'm sorry. I had hopes I'd see you two settled down here, where maybe I could go to lay my head among them that cared for me when my time came at last."
"I'm sorry, Uncle Boley, from the bottom of my heart."
But the words had a perfunctory sound in his own ear as he spoke, and he knew there could be no consolation in them for Uncle Boley. Texas lingered on a little while in the shop, and then left
