He was barefoot, and wore a pair of leather breeches and a ragged homespun shirt.

Beyond doubt he was ugly.
He moved round to the right side of the bed where he was wholly in shadow.
"My lines is settin' nicely," he said.

"I'll have a fish for your supper.

And then I'm goin' to take dad's gun and fetch you a turkey.

You could eat a slice of a fat turkey, I reckon." The woman did not answer, for she was thinking.