"_Tha'_ he is--he go'n' a' sprinkle snake-dust in mah boots--tha' he is--watch _out_!" He still maundered weakly as I reached the door, but it was not this that detained me at its threshold.

It was Miss Caroline, who had actually knelt at his side.

At first I thought she wept over one of his blue-black hands, which she clung eagerly to with both her own.

Then I saw that there seemed to be no tears--yet silently, almost impassively, she gave me a sense of hopeless grief that I thought no outburst of weeping could have done.
I wondered wildly then if her fashion of speech for Clem might not mask some real affection for him.

But this was unsatisfying.