There's no offense, I hope, in saying that much, or in
asking (after what you yourself told Blyth) whether her death happened
lately, or--"
"It happened afore ever you was born."
He gave this answer, which amazed Zack, in a curiously smothered,
abstracted tone, as if he were talking to himself; laying aside the
rifle suddenly as he spoke, sitting down by the table again, and
resting his head on his hand, Young Thorpe took a chair near him, but
wisely refrained from saying anything just at that moment. Silence
seemed to favor the change that was taking place for the better in
Mat's temper. He looked up, after awhile, and regarded Zack with a
rough wistfulness and anxiety working in his swarthy face.
"I like you, Zack," he said, laying one hand on the lad's arm and
mechanically stroking down the cloth of his sleeve. "I like you. Don't
let us two part company. Let's always pull together as brotherly and
pleasant as we can." He paused. His hand tightened round young Thorpe's
arm; and the hot, dry, tearless look in his eyes began to soften as he
added, "I take it kind in you, Zack, saying you were sorry for her just
now. She died afore ever you was born." His hand relaxed its grasp: and
when he had repeated those last words, he turned a little away, and
said no more.
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