After a while they were all gone and I waited a minute and came out.
I had to follow the path to keep out of the wet grass so I didn't see her until I was pretty near there, standing there in a black cloak, looking at the flowers.
I knew who it was right off, before she turned and looked at me and lifted up her veil.
"Hello, Jason," she says, holding out her hand.
We shook hands.
"What are you doing here?" I says. "I thought you promised her you wouldn't come back here.
I thought you had more sense than that."
"Yes?" she says.
She looked at the flowers again.
There must have been fifty dollars' worth.
Somebody had put one bunch on Quentin's. "You did?" she says.
"I'm not surprised though," I says. "I wouldn't put anything past you.
You dont mind anybody.
You dont give a dam about anybody."
"Oh," she says, "that job." She looked at the grave. "I'm sorry about that, Jason."
"I bet you are," I says. "You'll talk mighty meek now.
But you needn't have come back.
There's not anything left.
Ask Uncle Maury, if you dont believe me."
"I dont want anything," she says.
She looked at the grave. "Why didn't they let me know?" she says. "I just happened to see it in the paper.
On the back page.
Just happened to."
I didn't say anything.
We stood there, looking at the grave, and then I got to thinking about when we were little and one thing and another and I got to feeling funny again, kind of mad or something, thinking about now we'd have Uncle Maury around the house all the time, running things like the way he left me to come home in the rain by myself.
I says, "A fine lot you care, sneaking in here soon as he's dead.
But it wont do you any good.
Dont think that you can take advantage of this to come sneaking back.
If you cant stay on the horse you've got, you'll have to walk," I says. "We dont even know your name at that house," I says. "Do you know that? We dont even know your name. You'd be better off if you were down there with him and Quentin," I says. "Do you know that?"
"I know it," she says. "Jason," she says, looking at the grave, "if you'll fix it so I can see her a minute I'll give you fifty dollars."
"You haven't got fifty dollars," I says.
"Will you?" she says, not looking at me.
"Let's see it," I says. "I dont believe you've got fifty dollars."
I could see where her hands were moving under her cloak, then she held her hand out.
Dam if it wasn't full of money.
I could see two or three yellow ones.
"Does he still give you money?" I says. "How much does he send you?"
"I'll give you a hundred," she says. "Will you?"
"Just a minute," I says. "And just like I say.
I wouldn't have her know it for a thousand dollars "
"Yes," she says. "Just like you say do it.
Just so I see her a minute.
I wont beg or do anything.
I'll go right on away."
"Give me the money," I says.
"I'll give it to you afterward," she says.
"dont you trust me?" I says.
"No," she says. "I know you.
I grew up with you."
"You're a fine one to talk about trusting people," I says.