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Updated: June 26, 2025
"I despise Dick Swann." "Why?" asked her mother. "I just do. I never liked him in school. He used to do such mean things. He's selfish. He let Holt and Daren suffer for his tricks." "Margaret, you talk like a child." "Listen, mother." She threw her arms round Mrs. Maynard and kissed her and spoke pleadingly. "Oh, don't make me hate myself.
According to Blair, Daren Lane had divided Middleville into two dissenting factions, a large one who banned him in disgrace, and a small one who lifted their voices in his behalf.
"Poor eyesight!" ejaculated Lane. "He was the best shot in the battery the best hunter among the boys. Well, that's funny." "Daren, there are people who called Dick Swann a slacker," returned Lorna, as if forced to give this information. "But I never saw that it hurt him. He's rich now. His uncle left him a million, and his father will leave him another.
All refused to marry us. So I came to my old friend. You've known me all my life. Daren has at last convinced me broke down my resistance. So I ask will you marry us?" Doctor Wallace was silent for many moments while he gazed into the fire and stroked her hand. Suddenly a smile broke over his fine face. "You say you asked Hartley to marry you?" "Yes, we went to him. It was a reckless thing to do.
At the inn he encountered Colonel Pepper, who wore a most woebegone and ludicrous expression. He pounced at once upon Lane. "Daren, what do you think?" he wailed, miserably. "I don't think. I know. You've gone and done it pulled that stunt of yours again," returned Lane. "Yes but oh, so much worse this time." "Worse! How could it be worse, unless you mean some one punched your head." "No.
"How do you mean, Doctor?" "Did you let down debase yourself morally?" "No. But I went to the bad physically and spiritually." "I see that. I don't like the color of your face.... Well, well, Daren. It was hell, wasn't it? Did you kill a couple of Huns for me?" Questions like this latter one always alienated Lane in some unaccountable way. It must have been revealed in his face.
"Rot!" exclaimed Mrs. Wrapp, with more force than elegance. "I'll invite Daren Lane to my house.... You women don't get the point. Daren Lane is a soldier come home to die. He gave himself. And he returns to find all all this sickening oh, what shall I call it? What does he care whether or not we invite him? Can't you see that?" "There's a good deal in what you say," returned Mrs.
And this thing would make the bitterness endurable." "I'd die for you," she returned. "But marry you! Daren dearest it will make you the laughing-stock of Middleville." "Whatever it makes me, I shall be proud." "Oh, I cannot, I dare not," she burst out. "You seem to forget the penalty for these unflattering negatives of yours," he returned, coolly, bending to her lips.
He had worked hard to try to get well, but he had never, in his heart, believed that possible. Lane called upon Doctor Bronson and asked to be thoroughly examined. The doctor manifestly found the examination a task of mounting gratification. At length he concluded. "Daren, I told you over a year ago I didn't know of anything that could save your life," he said. "I didn't.
"Bessy, you're not going to do that sort of thing any more." Lane bent over her, took her hands. She instinctively rebelled, then slowly yielded. "That's part of our bargain?" she asked. "Yes, it certainly is." "Then I won't ever again." "Bessy, I trust you. Do you understand me?" "I I think so." "Daren, will you care for me if I'm if I do as you want me to?" "I do now," he replied.
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