A large tear was trickling down Letitia's cheek, as she saw the men take their places on the wagons and realized that this—this was, indeed, the very end.
"No, Archie," she said, "we shall never call them back. We shall never dare to do it. And, in the years to come, our experiences with these dear oldthings—that, later on, we shall sell—will sound like some absurd and far-fetched story that a new generation will never credit. The question that has broken us will be solved only in the way in which we are trying to solve it. There is, and there will be, no other solution."
Jim smacked a whip; a huge "home"-laden wagon groaned and labored for a moment; then it slowly and reluctantly moved away. We watched it until it reached the corner and turned from our sight. The tears were streaming down Letitia's face, and I must confess that I bit my mustache so ferociously that I left ragged ends.
"Come, my girl," I said in a low voice, as I opened the door of the cab. She got in, and I followed. We leaned back, heavy, silent, and with a mortal sorrow in our hearts. Then—then—
We were driven swiftly away to a new condition of things, in which the cooks shall cease from troubling, and we shall be at rest.