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Updated: June 6, 2025
But long afterward, when time, mighty adjuster of the human soul, had given to events their true proportions, that meeting with "Cottonton" loomed up in all its greatness, all its infinite appeal to the emotions, all its appeal to what is highest and worthiest in man. In silence, before all that little world, Sue Desha had put her arms about his neck. In silence he had clasped the major's hand.
It had never occurred to him that Waterbury loved Sue, and that he had forced his assistance while helping to create the necessity for that assistance, merely as a means of lending some authority to his suit. But Waterbury possessed many likable qualities; he had stood friend to Colonel Desha, whatever his motives, and the latter honored him on his own valuation.
Oh, yes, you wanted to be clean, first, and all that. And she might die in the meantime. You didn't think she still cared for you? Now, see here, kid, that's a lie and you know it. It's a lie. When a girl like Miss Desha goes so far as to Oh, fuss! I can't tell a yarn. But, see here, kid, I haven't your blood. I own that.
From friends outside $3,264 were sent and about $1,800 were raised in various ways in the State. Dr. Shaw and Miss Jane Addams spoke in several cities and other prominent speakers were Mrs. Desha Breckinridge of Kentucky, Miss Helen Todd of California, Mrs. McCormick and "General" Rosalie Jones of New York. The State and county fairs were utilized.
It was no easy task he had set himself, but he did not falter by the wayside. Three great stimulants he had health, the thought of Sue Desha, and the practical assistance of Jimmie Drake. It was a month, dating from the memorable meeting with the turfman, before Garrison was able to leave the hospital.
This intimacy with Sue Desha was destined to work a change in Waterbury. He had come unworthy to the Desha home. He acknowledged that to himself. Come with the purpose of compelling his suit, if necessary. His love had been the product of his animalistic nature. It was a purely sensual appeal. He had never known the true interpretation of love; never experienced the society of a womanly woman.
For when the Desha and Waterbury type commingle there is but the one interpretation. Need of money or clemency in the one case; need of social introduction or elevation through kinship in the other. The latter was Waterbury's case. But he also loved Sue in his own way.
I suppose this one copied it; imitation being the sincerest form of flattery. I hope he does the name justice. Do you know him? He is a good rider? What horse is he up on?" Drake, wisely enough, chose the last question. "A ten-to-one shot," he replied illuminatingly. "Perhaps you'll bet on him, Miss Desha, eh? It's what we call a hunch coincidence or anything like that.
And the fine differentiation between these two words is the line separating the love that fouls from the love that cleanses. And even as Garrison was fighting out the night with his sleepless thoughts, Sue Desha was in the same restless condition. Mr. Waterbury had arrived. His generous snores could be heard stalking down the corridor from the guest-chamber.
In the grand stand sat three people wearing a blue and gold ribbon the Desha colors. Occasionally they were reinforced by a big man, who circulated between them and the paddock. The latter was Jimmie Drake. The others were "Cottonton," as the turfman called them. They were Major and Mrs. Calvert and Sue Desha. Colonel Desha was not there. He was eating his heart out back home.
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