THE TURNING-POINT
“Who found me?”
“I did. I knew by the looks somethin’ was wrong up here.”
“Somethin’ wrong, sure enough, an’ always was!” Amanda heard him mutter as he turned his face to the wall.
The next day he opened his eyes suddenly as she was passing through the room.
“Did you make that pie William Benson brought me last month?”
“What made you think I did?”
“Oh, I don’t know; it looked, an’ it tasted like one o’ yours,” he said, closing his eyes again. “If you know a woman, you can tell her pie, somehow!”
When had Caleb Kimball ever tasted any of her cooking? A mysterious remark, but everything he said sounded a trifle lightheaded.
His questions came back to her when she was waiting for William Benson at twilight that same day.
Caleb had been sleeping quietly for an hour or more. Amanda was standing at the
137
