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In the warm-lit publicity of Miss Alma Beedie's birthday-party, shaking off so soon the memory of that brief glint of pistol-play under the apple-trees, she took a fantastic vow to marry the one that brought her the wedding-ring promised with her left hand on Miss Beedie's album and her right lifted toward the allegorical print of the Good Shepherd that the one who, first across the Sound to the jeweler's at Gillyport and back again, fetched her the golden-ring that he should be her husband "for better or for worse, till death us do part, and so forth and so on, Amen!"
Following at his heels I saw the faces of women turned to our entrance with expectation. Do you know the awful sense of a party that has fallen flat? Do you know the desolation of a hope long deferred once more deferred? Joshua was standing in the farthest corner, beyond the pews where Miss Beedie's Sunday School class held.
And when, remembering the faint, chambered impact I had felt in shaking the unknown treasure on the beach, I peeped in through the round hole, I made out the shape of a leaden slug nested loosely between two points of bone behind the nose a bullet, I should say, from an old, single-ball dueling pistol such a pistol as Joshua Blake had played with in the shadow of apple-trees on that distant afternoon, and carried in his pocket, no doubt, to the warm-lit gaiety of Alma Beedie's birthday party....
Beedie's exposition tended to show that it was a new country with splendid prospects and they desired to take advantage of its opening opportunities; some of them being already poor, sought here cheaper homes, with more chance for development. And, pursuing the interpretation of her side of the shield, Mrs.
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