“Well, all right,” he assented. “I suppose I ought to sleep if I can. And then Sam is coming up here, by five. He’s going to bring some railroad men with him. We’ve got a lot to do. Yes, I guess, old girl, I’ll try to get forty winks before they get here. And, Laura,” he added, taking her hand as she rose to go, “Laura, this is the last lap. In just another month now⁠—oh, at the outside, six weeks⁠—I’ll have closed the corner, and then, old girl, you and I will go somewheres, anywhere you like, and then we’ll have a good time together all the rest of our lives⁠—all the rest of our lives, honey. Goodbye. Now I think I can go to sleep.”

She arranged the cushions under his head and drew the curtains close over the windows, and went out, softly closing the door behind her. And a half hour later, when she stole in to look at him, she found him asleep at last, the tired eyes closed, and the arm, with its broad, strong hand, resting under his head. She stood a long moment in the middle of the room, looking down at him; and then slipped out as noiselessly as she had come, the tears trembling on her eyelashes.