"Say, Saadat, think of it: a bed with four feet, and linen sheets, and
sleeping till any time in the morning, and, If you please, sir,
breakfast's on the table.' Say, it's great, and we're in it!"
David smiled. "Thee did very well, friend, without such luxuries. Thee is
not skin and bone."
Lacey mopped his forehead. "Well, I've put on a layer or two since the
relief. It's being scared that takes the flesh off me. I never was
intended for the 'stricken field.' Poetry and the hearth-stone was my
real vocation--and a bit of silver mining to blow off steam with," he
added with a chuckle.
David laughed and tapped his arm. "That is an old story now, thy
cowardice. Thee should be more original.
"It's worth not being original, Saadat, to hear you thee and thou me as
you used to do. It's like old times--the oldest, first times. You've
changed a lot, Saadat."
"Not in anything that matters, I hope."
"Not in anything that matters to any one that matters. To me it's the
same as it ever was, only more so. It isn't that, for you are you.
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