"Out with the boys awhile?" asked Coltrane kindly.
"No, I went nowhere. I haven't had a dollar to spend in the last two
months. Struck the demijohn too often, I reckon, as usual."
Colonel Coltrane touched him on the shoulder.
"A little while ago, Yancey," he began, "you asked me if I had brought
Stella and Lucy over to play. You weren't quite awake then, and must
have been dreaming you were a boy again. You are awake now, and I
want you to listen to me. I have come from Stella and Lucy to their
old playmate, and to my old friend's son. They know that I am going
to bring you home with me, and you will find them as ready with a
welcome as they were in the old days. I want you to come to my house
and stay until you are yourself again, and as much longer as you will.
We heard of your being down in the world, and in the midst of
temptation, and we agreed that you should come over and play at our
house once more. Will you come, my boy? Will you drop our old family
trouble and come with me?"
"Trouble!" said Goree, opening his eyes wide. "There was never any
trouble between us that I know of. I'm sure we've always been the
best friends. But, good Lord, Colonel, how could I go to your home as
I am--a drunken wretch, a miserable, degraded spendthrift and
gambler--"
He lurched from the table into his armchair, and began to weep maudlin
tears, mingled with genuine drops of remorse and shame.
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