you could be so hard-hearted as to let me suffer so. If you could come over on a log to go to your funeral, you could have come over and give me a hint some way that you warn’t dead, but only run off.”
“Yes, you could have done that, Tom,” said Mary; “and I believe you would if you had thought of it.”
“Would you, Tom?” said Aunt Polly, her face lighting wistfully.
“Say, now, would you, if you’d thought of it?”
“I — well, I don’t know. ’Twould ’a’ spoiled everything.”
“Tom, I hoped you loved me that much,” said Aunt Polly, with a grieved tone that discomforted the boy.