Don't, go back on me.

You're my wife, Nan; you don't know what that means to me now,--you reelly don't." Mrs.Kimper stared, then she almost smiled.
"I mean it, Nan," whispered the man.
Mrs.Kimper rummaged for a moment in the drawers of a dilapidated bureau, and finally folded a red handkerchief and tied it over her head.
"Good!" said the deacon, who had been watching the couple closely.
"We'll go around by the back way, so nobody'll see either of you, if you don't want them to.

I'll take Samuel along with me, and you can drop in wherever you think best, Mrs.Kimper.

I'm not going back on any man who is going to turn over a new leaf.

Come along.".