They make me sick.

Come on." "Where ?" Jean held back a little with vague stubbornness against the thought of taking up life again without her dad.

"This--this is the jumping-off place, Lite.

There's nothing beyond." Lite gripped her arm a little tighter if anything, and led her across the street and down the high sidewalk that bridged a swampy tract at the edge of town beyond the depot.
"We're taking the long way round," he observed "because I'm going to talk to you like a Dutch uncle for saying things like that.

I--had a talk with your dad last night, Jean.