"Well, that wouldn’t be hard to imagine, anyway," he said, with an intonation like a sigh, if it wasn’t one. "If a body couldn’t imagine a better fix for a man to be in than I am in, they’d better quit. Lord, Lord, I reckon I ought to be dead ashamed to meet you in this condition when you knew me away back in them palmy days, but, Jane, I really believe I’ve sunk below that sort of a feeling. You know I used to cut a wide swath when I had plenty of money and friends, but what’s the use of crying over spilt milk? This is all there is left of me. I managed to marry Nettie off to a feller good enough in his way. I thought he was a fine catch, but I don’t know. I was under the impression that his folks had some money to give him to sorter start the two out, but it seems they didn’t have, and was looking for a stake themselves. Since they married he just stays round here, contented and about as shiftless as anybody could be. I thought, for instance, that he never got in debt, but a store-keeper in town told me the other day that he owed him for the very duds he was married in." "That’s bad, that’s powerful bad," Jane said, sympathetically. Then a fixed look took possession of her eyes, and her fingers tightened on her bonnet in her lap, as she plunged towards the thing with which she was burdened. "Joe," she continued, "I’ve come all the way over the mountain in my delicate health to see you about a particular matter. God knows it’s the hardest thing I ever contemplated, but there is no other way out of it." "Well, I think I know what you are going to say," he answered, avoiding her eyes. "You do, Joe?" she exclaimed. "Oh no, surely, you can’t know that." "Well, I think I can make a good guess," he said, awkwardly twirling his fingers round and round. "You see, I always make a habit, when I happen to meet anybody from over your way, of asking about old acquaintances, and I heard some time back that you was in deep trouble. They said you had some high-priced doctoring to do in Atlanta, and that you was going from old friend to old friend for what little help they could give. I’m going to see what I can do towards it myself, since you’ve taken such a long trip, though, Jane, to tell you the truth, I haven’t actually seen a ten-cent piece in a month. I’ve gone without tobacco when I thought the desire for it would run me distracted. So—" "I didn’t come for help—Lord, Lord, I only wish it was that, Joe. I’ve already had the operation, and I’m recovering. I’ve come over here, Joe, to make an awful confession." "A—a—what?" he said. There was a pause. Jane Hemingway unrolled her bonnet and put it on, pulling the hood down over her line of vision.