The Hangings

Cover The Hangings
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Genres: Fiction
I thought about Hannah all the way back to town, and off and on during the afternoon, and while I endured Ivy's pry-and-prattle over supper. Soon after we finished eating I got my coat and went out and walked around on the east side of town for a while, letting enough time pass so that I would not interrupt Hannah's supper and any evening chores she might have. It was near nine when I finally walked back across the bridge and through town and climbed the rise to the Dalton house.
Hannah was on
...the porch, as usual, and again I had the notion she was pleased to see me. I also thought I detected a measure of concern in her voice when she asked, "How are you feeling, Lincoln?" right after she let me in.
"Feeling?" "Your head. The prowler last night." "You know about that?" I asked, surprised.
"Oh yes. All about it." "How? I didn't see you in town today. . . ." "I wasn't in town today." "But I thought that—" "That I didn't have callers? I don't, usually." She smiled. It was difficult to tell in the lamplight, but there did not seem to be any humor in it.
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