"Nan's a fine, good gal," Bud declared, with simple earnestness.
"Guess she's her mother over again--only she's jest Nan. Nan's more to
me than all the dollars in creation, boy. Guess you're right. Oh,
yes, you're right--sure." The man brushed aside the beads of sweat
from his broad forehead. "An' Nan's goin' to do jest as she notions.
She's goin' to live around her home as long as she feels that way.
When she don't feel that way she's goin' to quit. When she feels like
choosin' a man fer herself--why, I'm goin' to do all I know helpin' her
that way. But it's goin' to be her choice, boy. An' when that time
comes, why, I'll get right down on my knees an' pray A'mighty God he's
the feller for her, an' the man I'm hopin' she'll choose, an' that he
wants her, same as she wants him."
Then he shook his head and a deep sigh escaped him.
"But I don't know. It don't seem to me reasonable. Y' see, the luck's
run all my way so far, an' I don't guess you can keep on dealin' the
cards without 'em gettin' right up an' handin' it you plenty--some
time.
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