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Updated: June 7, 2025
"He he does not seem to have any place, lil' Cyn." "Oh! yes and yes he does! I reckon he is bigger than even you or I know!" Did she suspect the terrible weakness of desire that was overpowering him? At this thought Sandy gripped his hands closer; he felt her deep, true eyes upon him and a rush of blood dyed his dark face to crimson.
Next morning, Joyce came flying over to Cynthia's house half an hour before it was time to start for high school. She seemed rather excited. "Come on! Do hurry, Cyn! I've something important to tell you." "But it isn't time to start yet," objected Cynthia, "and I'm only half through breakfast. Tell me here!" Joyce gave her a warning glance before turning away.
"In this bag," Cynthia touched the bag at her waist, "are the letters I wrote to you, Sandy, while you were away. I hid them in an old tree by Stoneledge. The tree kept them safe for me. There are a right many all answers to the one you sent me. Do you want them, Sandy?" "Yes." "Here Sandy!" The letters, more precious than any other gift, lay in his keeping at last. "God bless you, lil' Cyn."
But there is another thing I want to know. There are three Fates, are there not, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropus? Zeus. Quite so. Cyn. But one also hears a great deal about Destiny and Fortune. Who are they, and what is the extent of their power? Is it equal to that of the Fates? or greater perhaps? People are always talking about the insuperable might of Fortune and Destiny. Zeus.
All destiny, of course. Zeus. Take care, Cyniscus: you are going too far. You will repent of this one day. Cyn. Spare your threats: you know that nothing can happen to me, except what Fate has settled first. I notice, for instance, that even temple-robbers do not always get punished; most of them, indeed, slip through your hands. Not destined to be caught, I suppose. Zeus.
Do you not remember how in those old, old days it was you who taught me, awoke my imagination and helped me to my own? Dear lil' Cyn help me now! Help me help these dear people, yours and mine! I need you so, sweetheart, and I will be good to you! Marry me, lil' Cyn, marry me right away and let us go on together! I can do so much for you and yours sweet " But Sandy got no farther.
Cyn. And whom does he send to dwell with the heroes? Zeus. Good men and God-fearing, who have led virtuous lives. Cyn. Why? Zeus. Because they deserve punishment and reward respectively. Cyn. Suppose a man commits a crime accidentally: does he punish him just the same? Zeus. Certainly not. Cyn. Similarly, if a man involuntarily performed a good action, he would not reward him? Zeus. No. Cyn.
"Hoh, look you, I am displeased, Mistress Cyn, I cannot lend my approval to this over-greedy oblivion that gapes for all. No, it is not a satisfying arrangement that I should teeter insecurely through the void on a gob of mud, and be expected bye and bye to relinquish even that crazy foothold.
You stand here like you were going to stay on forever and I'll run down the trail. I won't look back once, Sandy, but kiss me good-bye." It was the little Cyn of the past playful days who pleaded so pathetically forgetting caste and dividing line.
I would be so lonely without you; I would miss this this dear place mighty bad but if you say such words, if you forget I am still lil' Cyn, why don't you see I cannot come up this-er-way any more?" So perfect was the attempt that it took all the girl's pride and strength to hold it.
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