"There's nothin' I want," said Isabel.
"Oh, that's all right," I replied, and put down my suit-case close up against the house. Then I went over to where Isabel was and set down on the low step beside her. It didn't seem right to leave any woman idle in a place like that, settin' all alone, lookin' at nothing in particular, listenin' to that swamp.
Isabel didn't move over when I sat down, nor say anything to make me feel welcome. I didn't take offense. I'm used to Isabel's kind.
I took off my hat and laid it on the grass beside me, and after a minute or two, I asked, "Well, Isabel, how are yer?"
"All right," she said, curt and brief.
"I see you're still on the job."
Isabel give a shrug, and kind of a grunt, but didn't say anything.
"Haven't had to resort to what you got in the lowest drawer of your bureau yet, anyhow," I remarked.
"I suppose you're referrin' to that fifteen dollars," says Isabel.
"Yes, I was," I allowed.
"Lot of good that's doin' me!" she murmured.
"You used to say it did you a lot of good," I reminded her. "You used to say that that fif-