‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. Would there be enough in the young man's envelope to pay the doctor and the hotel bill—and in the event of his death, enough to ship the body home? So all things pointed to the happy circumstance of setting this young fool upon his feet again, of seeing him hence upon his journey. 3. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. This was in Texas. “And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured.
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