"
It was part of her uneasiness that, scarcely understanding or, indeed,
feeling any interest in these maundering details, she still seemed
to have an odd comprehension of his character and some reminiscent
knowledge of him, as if she were going through the repetition of some
unpleasant dream. Even his wrinkled face was becoming familiar to her.
Some weird attraction was holding her; she wanted to get away from it as
much as she wanted to analyze it. She glanced ostentatiously at the sky,
prepared to open her parasol, and began to edge cautiously away.
"Then tha beant from these pearts?" he said suddenly.
"No, no," she said quickly and emphatically,--"no, I'm an American."
The old man started and moved towards her, eagerly, his keen eyes
breaking through the film that at times obscured them. "'Merrikan! tha
baist 'Merrikan? Then tha knaws ma son John, 'ee war nowt but a bairn
when brether Dick took un to 'Merriky! Naw! Now! that wor fifty years
sen!--niver wroate to his old feyther--niver coomed back, 'Ee wor
tall-loike, an' thea said 'e feavored mea." He stopped, threw up his
head, and with his skinny fingers drew back his long, straggling locks
from his sunken cheeks, and stared in her face.
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