“No. I stayed at the Weaver House last night.” She laughed. “Oh, you. Leave it to you. To think of the fool thing to do.” He said soberly: “I was in earnest, Hetty. I meant what I said.” She nodded. “Sure you did. You’re just a big enough fool to go through with it, too.” “Of course.” “You’ve got a f-fat chance, Wint,” she said, and her voice broke, and she was very near crying through her smiles. “I’ve waked up, now. You’ve got a fine, fat chance of that.” “I don’t hold it against you,” he said. “I’d--be good to you.” “Don’t be a nut, darn you! You’ll make me cry. I came near crying myself to death, last night.” Wint’s curiosity was awake; he asked again: “What happened?” “Why, you knocked us all flat,” she said. “I took it out in crying. Routt beat it after you. He was the first to move.” There was a curious, hard quality in her voice; and Wint asked: “Was it....” He bit off the question, furious with himself for asking. She said slowly: “Never mind. That’s past. I thought for a while I’d be better dead; but I know better, now. Nothing can kill you unless you want to be killed. Nobody ever fell so hard they couldn’t get up. I’m going to get up, Wint, and go right on living.” He told her quickly: “Of course. I’ll help. Honestly....” She said fiercely: “You will not. If you think I’m going to let you go through with this--” She broke off, laughed. “Well, I was telling you what happened. Routt beat it after you. The rest of us sat still, me bawling. Then your father got up and ran out to the front door, and out to the street. While he was gone, Kite begun to stir. I looked at Kite. Believe me, Wint, he was squashed. He hadn’t expected you to--do what you did. He looked like a dead man. He stuffed his things into his pocket and he pattered out into the hall. Then he came back; and he said to me: “‘Come, Hetty.’ “I said to him: ‘You go where you’re going, you old buzzard.’ And I went on crying. It felt good. “I heard Kite go out the front door; and then your father came back. He says: ‘He’s gone! Wint’s gone!’ “Then he looked at me, and I couldn’t look at him. And he went out and went upstairs. “The rest of them went along, then. Ed Skinner went first. Then B. B. and Amos together. Amos says to me: ‘Don’t cry so, Hetty. Don’t cry so.’ I told him to shut up; and he went along. When they were all gone, I got myself together and went out. Lutcher and Kite were waiting at the corner. They stopped me; and Kite, he says: ‘My God, what are we going to do?’ “I hit him in the face, hard as I could. Lutcher grabbed my arm; and I told him to let go, and he let go. I went on and left them. Went home and cried some more.” She laughed a little. “I’ll say I felt like crying, Wint. That was your doing. Darn you!” He said: “You mustn’t feel badly.” “Badly!” she echoed, and her eyes were suddenly hard. “Wint, I could cut out my tongue.” She moved abruptly, hid her face. After an instant, she turned to him again.