"You can talk it over with your mother, an' do jest as you're a mind to about it, that's all.

If you want to have a few of the young folks over here when them cherries are ripe, you can have four of them trees to pick off of.

I ain't got no more to say about it." Silas turned in a peremptory and conclusive manner.

Rose fairly gasped as she watched his stiff one-sided progress across the yard.
The vague horror of the unusual stole over her.

A new phase of her father's character stood between her and all her old memories like a supernatural presence.