Charles was
now almost as confidential concerning his personal affairs as his
sister had been and continued to be.
"It's surprising how I come in here and tell you all my private
business, Jed," he said, laughing. "I don't go about shouting my
joys and troubles in everybody's ear like this. Why do I do it to
you?"
Jed stopped a dismal whistle in the middle of a bar.
"W-e-e-ll," he drawled, "I don't know. When I was a young-one I
used to like to holler out back of Uncle Laban Ryder's barn so's to
hear the echo. When you say so and so, Charlie, I generally agree
with you. Maybe you come here to get an echo; eh?"
Phillips laughed. "You're not fair to yourself," he said. "I
generally find when the echo in here says no after I've said yes it
pays me to pay attention to it. Sis says the same thing about you,
Jed."
Jed made no comment, but his eyes shone. Charles went on.
"Don't you get tired of hearing the story of my life?" he asked.
"I--"
He stopped short and the smile faded from his lips. Jed knew why.
The story of his life was just what he had not told, what he could
not tell.
As January slid icily into February Mr. Gabriel Bearse became an
unusually busy person. There were so many things to talk about.
Among these was one morsel which Gabe rolled succulently beneath
his tongue. Charles Phillips, "'cordin' to everybody's tell," was
keeping company with Maud Hunniwell.
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