With eyes that could not see, he looked down at the manuscript to which he still unconsciously clung; and, again, he fingered the pages of his work as though some blind instinct were sending his tormented soul to seek relief in the message which, during the happy months just past, he had written for others.
And the deformed mountain girl, who stood before him with twisted body and old-young face, grew fearful as she watched the suffering of this man whom she had come to look upon as a superior being from some world which she, in her ignorance, could never know.
"Mr.Burns," she said at last, putting out her hand and plucking at his sleeve, "Mr.Burns, you-all ain't got no call ter be like this.

You-all ain't plumb bad.

I knows you ain't, 'count of the way you-all have been ter me an' 'cause you kept pap from hurtin' me, an' 'cause you are takin' care of Auntie Sue like you're doin'.

Hit ain't no matter 'bout the money, now, 'cause you-all kin take care of her allus." Brian looked up from the manuscript in his hand, and stared dumbly at the girl, as if he failed to hear her clearly.
"An' just think 'bout your book," Judy continued pleadingly.

"Think 'bout all them fine things you-all have done wrote down for everybody ter read,--'bout the river allus a-goin' on just the same, no matter what happens, an' 'bout Auntie Sue an'-- " She stopped, and drew away from him, frightened at the look that came into the man's face.
"Don't, Mr.Burns! Don't!" she half-screamed.