It's a pretty place--fine valley, but Wils, you can't _live_ there," she expostulated.
"Why not, I'd like to know ?" "That little cubby-hole! It's only a tiny one-room cabin, roof all gone, chinks open, chimney crumbling....

Wilson, you don't mean to tell me you want to live there alone ?" "Sure.

What'd you think ?" he replied, with sarcasm.
"Expect me to _marry_ some girl?
Well, I wouldn't, even if any one would have a cripple." "Who--who will take care of you ?" she asked, blushing furiously.
"I'll take care of myself," he declared.

"Good Lord! Columbine, I'm not an invalid yet.

I've got a few friends who'll help me fix up the cabin.
And that reminds me.