He even temporarily forgot the blow his hopes had sustained when Betty spoke of returning to North Carolina.

This was life--broad acres and niggers--principally to trot after you toting liquor--and such liquor!--he lolled back luxuriantly with half-closed eyes.
"Twenty years in the wood if an hour!" he muttered.

"I'd like to have just such a taste in my mouth when I come to die--and probably she has barrels of it!" he sighed deeply, and searched his soul for words with which adequately to describe that whisky to Mahaffy.
But why not do more than paralyze Solomon--that would be pleasant but not especially profitable.

The judge came back quickly to the vexed problem of his future.

He desired to make some striking display of Miss Malroy's courtesy.