"What is it Statira does to keep taking more cold?"
"Oh, I guess 'tain't 'ny _more_ cold," said 'Manda Grier.
"What do you mean?"
"I guess 'f you cared a great deal you'd noticed that cough 'f hers
before now. 'Tain't done it any too much good workin' in that
arsenic paper all summer long."
'Manda Grier talked with her face turned away from him.
It provoked him more and more. "I _do_ care," he retorted,
eager to quarrel, "and you know it. Who got her into the box-
factory, I should like to know?"
"_I_ did!" said 'Manda Grier, turning sharply on him, "and you
_kept_ her there; and between us we've killed her."
"How have I kept her there, I should like to know?"
"'F you'd done's she wanted you should, she might 'a' been at some
pleasant place in the country--the mount'ns, or somewhere 't she'd
been ov'r her cough by this time. But no! You was too nasty proud
for that, Lemuel Barker!"
A heavy load of guilt dropped upon Lemuel's heart, but he flung it
off, and he retorted furiously,
"You ought to have been ashamed of yourself to ever want her to take
a servant's place."
"Oh, a servant's place! If she'd been ashamed of a servant when you
came meechin' round her, where'd you been, I sh'd like to know? And
now I wish she had; 'n' if she wa'n't such a little fool, 'n' all
wrapped in you, the way 't she is, I could wish 't she'd never set
eyes on you again, servant or no servant.
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