Presently he was tapping at the bedroom door. Dan wrapped himself in a sheet and turned the knob. Elijah started. “The devil. You look like a corpse, wrapped up that way … oh,” he added lamely, “I’m sorry.” He came in and placed the heavy pitcher on the washstand, and presented Dan with a ring of keys which had been jingling in his hand. “These are the ones you’ll want, the old lady said. She said there were two trunks in the spare room; your things are in the big one.”

“Thanks, Hud.” Dan dropped the sheet and poured water into the wash-bowl. He buried his face in it, rubbing with yellow soap, and lifted blindly to hunt for the towel.

“There. Right beside your hand.”

“Thank you.”

Huddlestone sat on the edge of the bed. His slim fingers played nervously with the flaps of his waistcoat. He radiated the uncertain discomfort of one who feels that he is expected to return intimacy for intimacy, and cannot bring himself to do it.

“Sorry I’m not dressed,” Dan said, “but I had to put on some other clothes. I haven’t any that are more presentable than the ones I was wearing. Maybe there’ll be some, put away.”

“You gave me some pantaloons and a suit-coat when you went west,” Elijah reminded awkwardly. “I couldn’t wear your clothes now, though. You’re too wide.”

“Come out west and we’ll widen you.”

“No, I guess Pennsylvania’s more my pattern.”

They heard the uneven richness of Doctor Duffey’s voice from the floor below. Outside, the white horse wrenched his head about, shaking off flies. The jangle of his harness mingled with the distant, drowsy clacking of chickens. Somewhere near at hand a big farm wagon was rattling on the road.

“It must be good to get home,” Hud suggested timidly, “even with your grandfather dead, and all.”

“He should have died sooner. He hated to be sick.”

Hud nodded. “I used to see him sitting out on the porch. Or at the window in his library. He looked pretty sick, for a long time before he lay a-bed.”

“Well,” said Bale, “he’s easier, now.”

“Yes.” He had the stiff, fuzzy hat in his hand, tapping it against his knee. “I see you’ve cut off your whiskers.”

“It seemed necessary.”

“I see.”

“How do I look?” Dan asked, bluntly.

The younger man sat back less timidly against the disordered mass of bed covers. “Why, somewhat wider. I think I’d say that you look kind of more settled, some way. Like you had married and settled down. Though you haven’t married, have you?”

“You seem to be on the road, Hud.”

Elijah flushed. “Mealy’s a nice girl.”

“And very pretty.” Dan turned away, buttoning his drawers.

“The old man don’t like me, so well.”

“What’s he got against you?”