Mr. Goodson; I will take the general answer first.' 'Very well, then,
tell them to go to hell--I reckon that's general enough. And I'll give
you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for the particulars,
fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself home in.'"

"Just like Goodson; it's got all the marks. He had only one vanity; he
thought he could give advice better than any other person."

"It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was dropped."

"Bless you, I'm not doubting THAT."

Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. Soon
the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused by absorbed
thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At last Richards
lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing vacantly at the
floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his thoughts with little
nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate vexation.
Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and her
movements were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. Finally Richards
got up and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing his hands through
his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was having a bad dream.
Then he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; and without a word he put
on his hat and passed quickly out of the house. His wife sat brooding,
with a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware that she was alone. Now
and then she murmured, "Lead us not into t . . . but--but--we are so
poor, so poor! . . . Lead us not into . . . Ah, who would be hurt by
it?--and no one would ever know . . . Lead us . . . " The voice died out
in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered in a
half-frightened, half-glad way--