He must have a deal on his conscience, I thought--but why
in the name of goodness didn't he go home? Just pride, no doubt; he
would not go back when he had been turned off once.
I met Maggie every evening, and Glahn talked with her no more. I noticed
that she had given up chewing things altogether; she never chewed now. I
was pleased at that, and thought: She's given up chewing things; that is
one failing the less, and I love her twice as much as I did before!
One day she asked about Glahn--asked very cautiously. Was he not well?
Had he gone away?
"If he's not dead, or gone away," I said, "he's lying at home, no doubt.
It's all one to me. He's beyond all bearing now."
But just then, coming up to the hut, we saw Glahn lying on a mat on the
ground, hands at the back of his neck, staring up at the sky.
"There he is," I said.
Maggie went straight up to him, before I could stop her, and said in a
pleased sort of voice:
"I don't chew things now--nothing at all. No feathers or money or bits
of paper--you can see for yourself."
Glahn scarcely looked at her. He lay still. Maggie and I went on. When
I reproached her with having broken her promise and spoken to Glahn
again, she answered that she had only meant to show him he was wrong.
"That's right--show him he's wrong," I said.
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