If we did we'd stop movin' forward, I suppose, an' begin to balk.

I haven't much life now, except in Molly, an' it's the things that pleases or hurt her that I feel the most.

She's got a warm heart an' a hot temper like you used to have, Sarah, an' the world ain't easy generally to yo' sort." For a time Sarah was silent, her hands in their black woolen gloves gripping the handle of the basket.
"Well, I must be goin', Reuben," she said presently, rising from her chair.

"I'm sorry about yo' chest, an' I jest stepped over to bring you this glass of currant jelly I made last summer.

It goes well with meat when yo' appetite ain't hearty." She held out her hand, shook his with a hurried and awkward movement, and went out of the front door and down the flagged walk as Molly's steps were heard in the kitchen at the back.
"Sarah Revercomb has been here, honey," said Reuben.