Only that old trollop, Mother Massy, to look after
me."
"Come down to Selby and live there. You'll be welcome by Jake and me."
He stood his gun in the corner and, swinging the pigeons in his hand,
said: "Me live out of the mountains? Don't you know better than that?
I couldn't breathe; and I wouldn't want to breathe. I've got my shack
here, I got my fur business, and they're still fond of whiskey up North!"
He chuckled to himself, as he thought of the illicit still farther up the
mountain behind them. "I make enough to live on, and I've put a few
dollars by, though I won't have so many after to-morrow, after I've given
you a little pile, Jinny."
"P'r'aps there won't be any to-morrow, as you expect," she said slowly.
The old man started. "What, you and Jake ain't quarrelled again? You
ain't broke it off at the last moment, same as before? You ain't had a
letter from Jake?" He looked at the white petticoat on the chairback,
and shook his head in bewilderment.
"I've had no letter," she answered. "I've had no letter from Selby for a
month.
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