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Updated: May 14, 2025
"What'll Mist' Perrine say?" he asked. Dode's face flushed scarlet. The winter mountain night, Jackson's army, she did not fear; but the staring malicious world in the face of Aunt Perrine did make her woman's heart blench. "It doesn't matter," she said, her eyes full of tears. "I can't help that, Uncle Bone," putting her little hand on his shoulder, as he walked beside her.
Dode's color was dark blue: you know that means in an earthly life stern truth, and a tenderness as true: she wore it to-night, as she generally did, to tell God she was alive, and thanked Him for being alive. Surely the girl was made for to-day; she never missed the work or joy of a moment here in dreaming of a yet ungiven life, as sham, lazy women do.
He leaned over her, his face flushing, his voice lower, hurried. "Were you disappointed? Did you watch for me?" "I watched for you, Douglas," trying to rise. He took her hand and helped her up, then let it fall: he never held Dode's hand, or touched her hair, as Gaunt did. "I watched for you, I have something to say to you," steadying her voice.
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