A few dresses hanging from nails on the wall showed
that it was the women's room. The smaller compartment was again
subdivided by a hanging blanket, behind which was a rude bunk or berth
against the wall, a table made of a packing-box, containing a tin basin
and a can of water. This was his apartment.
"The women-folks are down the creek, bakin', to-day," said Jules
explanatorily; "but I reckon that one of 'em will be up here in a jiffy
to make supper, so you just take it easy till they come. I've got to
meander over to the claim afore I turn in, but you just lie by to-night
and take a rest."
He turned away, leaving Hemmingway standing in the doorway still
distraught and hesitating. Nor did the young man recognize the delicacy
of Jules' leave-taking until he had unstrapped his portmanteau and found
himself alone, free to make his toilet, unembarrassed by company. But
even then he would have preferred the rough companionship of the miners
in the common dormitory of the general store to this intrusion upon
the half-civilization of the women, their pitiable little comforts and
secret makeshifts.
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