So things was shapin' themselves well, 'cordin' to Scudder's notion.
"One afternoon Nate come, unexpected, to the top of a sand hill at t'other end of the island, and there, below, set Olivia and Augustus.
He had a clove hitch 'round her waist, and they was lookin' into each other's spectacles as if they was windows in the pearly gates.

Thinks Nate: 'They've signed articles,' and he tiptoed away, feelin' that life wa'n't altogether an empty dream.
"They was lively hours, them that followed.

To begin with, when Nate got back to the barn he found the professor layin' on the floor, under the flyin' stage, groanin' soulful but dismal.

He'd slipped off one of the braces of the trestles and sprained both wrists and bruised himself till he wa'n't much more than one big lump.

He hadn't bruised his tongue none to speak of, though, and his language wa'n't sprained so that you'd notice it.