He was too excited to notice the look on Polly's face. "Toby had
a notion before he died that you was never a-comin' back, but I
told him I'd change all that once I seed yer, and when Barker
sent me over here to-day to look arter the advertisin', he said
he guessed you'd had all you wanted a' church folks. 'Jes' you
bring her along to Wakefield,' he said, 'an' tell her that her
place is waitin' for her,' and I will, too." He turned upon
Polly with sudden decision. "Why, I feel jes' like pickin' yer
up in my arms and carryin' you right off now."
"Wait, Jim!" She put one tiny hand on his arm to restrain him.
"I don't mean--not--to-day--mebbe"--he stammered, uncertainly,
"but we'll be back here a-showin' next month."
"Don't look at me now," Polly answered, as the dog-like eyes
searched her face, "because I have to say something that is going
to hurt you, Jim."
"You're comin', ain't yer, Poll?" The big face was wrinkled and
care-worn with trouble.
"No, Jim," she replied in a tone so low that he could scarcely
hear her.
"You mean that you ain't NEVER comin' back?" He tried to realise
what such a decision might mean to him.
"No, Jim." She answered tenderly, for she dreaded the pain that
she must cause the great, good-hearted fellow.
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