"I'm Charity Royall," she said, as
if asserting her right to the name in the very place where it might have
been most open to question.
The woman did not seem to notice. "You kin stay," she merely said;
then she turned away and stooped over a dish in which she was stirring
something.
Harney and Charity sat down on a bench made of a board resting on two
starch boxes. They faced a door hanging on a broken hinge, and through
the crack they saw the eyes of the tow-headed boy and of a pale little
girl with a scar across her cheek. Charity smiled, and signed to the
children to come in; but as soon as they saw they were discovered they
slipped away on bare feet. It occurred to her that they were afraid of
rousing the sleeping man; and probably the woman shared their fear, for
she moved about as noiselessly and avoided going near the stove.
The rain continued to beat against the house, and in one or two places
it sent a stream through the patched panes and ran into pools on the
floor. Every now and then the kitten mewed and struggled down, and the
old woman stooped and caught it, holding it tight in her bony hands; and
once or twice the man on the barrel half woke, changed his position
and dozed again, his head falling forward on his hairy breast.
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