"Where's Abe?" she asked, and her voice for all its feebleness had a youthful music in it.
"I heerd him sayin' he was goin' down to the crick to cotch a fish. He reckoned you'd fancy a fish when yo could eat a piece. He's a mighty thoughtful boy, our Abe. Then he was comin' to read to you. You'd like that, dearie?"
The sick woman made no sign. Her eyes were vacantly regarding the doorway.
