darlin', do it hurt the grass to grow jest 'cause the winds bend it
double? Do it hurt the little birds to bust out of their shells in the
springtime?' And she knowed what I meant, that not even what she were a
thinkin' of could hurt her if I was there close by."

His deep voice sank almost to a whisper, a hard, heavy sob closing his
throat. He shook himself fiercely and continued:

"I took her up close--God! how close I tooked her up! And I telled her
that there wasn't no pain big 'nough to hurt her when I were there--that
even God's finger couldn't tech her afore it went through me. And she
fell to sleep like a bird, a trustin' me, 'cause I said as how there
wasn't goin' to be no hurt. And all the time I knowed I were a lyin'--I
knowed that she'd suffer--"

His voice trailed into silence, the muscles of his dark face twitching
under the gnawing heart-pain; but after a time he conquered his feelings
and went on:

"Then they comed and took me away for stealin' jest that there week and
sent me up to Auburn prison, and they wouldn't let me stay with her. And
I telled the state's lawyer, Floyd Vandecar, this; I says, 'Vandecar, ye
be a good man, I be a thief, and ye caught me square, ye did. My little
Midge be sick like women is sick sometimes, and she wants me, like every
woman wants her man jest then, an' if ye'll let me see her, to stay a
bit, I'll go up for twice my time.' But he jest laughed till--"

Lon stopped speaking, and neither listener moved. For a moment he
lowered his head to the small boat window and gazed out into the vapors
hanging low over the opposite bank.