I give myself to you. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. Threw it out. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. I will tell you what you shall give me, if you like. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket. It hadn’t even been called Kentucky back then when the Shawnee still hunted deer over mossy hills and the smoke from their fires could still inspire terror. Restraining with an effort his intense curiosity, he talked of general subjects only, trying his best to entertain her.
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