Anyhow, where do _I_ come in at ?" But I want to get a look at her and Henry, anyhow.

So I eases off my shoes, careful-like, and I eases acrost the floor to them sliding doors, and I puts my eye down to the little crack.

The talk is going backward and forward between them two, him wanting her to come away quick, and her undecided whether to risk seeing the kids.

And all the time she's kind o' hoping mebby she will be ketched if she tries to see the kids, and she's begging off fur more time ginerally.
Well, sir, I didn't blame that musician feller none when I seen her.

She was a peach.
And I couldn't blame her so much, neither, when I thought of Miss Estelle and all them scientifics of the perfessor's strung out fur years and years world without end.
Yet, when I seen the man, I sort o' wished she wouldn't.