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"G-guess it's because I'm not good enough to be anything more," he remarked suddenly. "Is that it?" "You have not tried even to be a friend," she said. "H-how about Worthington?" he persisted. "Just friends with him?" "I won't talk about Mr. Worthington," cried Cynthia, desperately, and retreated toward the lantern again. "J-just friends with Worthington?"

Kathleen took the girl's tightly clasped hands in hers: "Geraldine, you've got to be square to Duane. You can't marry him until you cleanse yourself, until you scour yourself free of this terrible inclination for stimulants." "H-how can I? I don't intend, ever again, to " "Prove it then. Let sufficient time elapse " "How long? A year?"

He t-tuk the gun and jes' b-b-blazed away." "I knew that was the way of it," said Billy, quietly. "B-betch yur life it was jes' that-a-way. H-how the h did you know?" "Dic told me," answered Billy. "Well, that-a-a-a-way was the way it was, sure as you're alive." "You're sure of it now, Patsy, are you?" "D-dead sure. Wa-wa-wasn't I there and d-d-didn't I see it all? Yes, sir, d-d-dead sure.

Thirty was nearer the price, but what did it matter. "H-how much for that?" he said, pointing to another. The clerk told him. He inquired about them all, deliberately repeating the sums, considering with so well-feigned an air of a purchaser that Mr. Wetherell began to take a real joy in the situation. For trade was slack in August, and diversion scarce.

"Uncle Jethro, I didn't know you were such a great man," she said. "H-how did ye find out, Cynthy?" "The way people treat you here. I knew you were great, of course," she hastened to add. "H-how do they treat me?" he asked, looking down at her. "You know," she answered. "They all stop talking when you come along and stare at you. But why don't you speak to them?"

This was because of a pain around his heart had she known it. He had felt that pain before. "H-how do they treat you, Cynthy?" She hesitated. She had not yet learned to use the word patronize in the social sense, and she was at a loss to describe the attitude of Mrs. Duncan and her daughter, though her instinct had registered it. She was at a loss to account for Mr. Worthington's attitude, too.

"H-how much did you git for your wool, Chester h-how much?" "Guess you hain't here to talk about wool, Bije," said Chester, red with anger. "Kind of neglectin' the farm lately, I hear," observed Bijah. "Jethro Bass sent you up to find out how much I was neglectin' it," retorted Chester, throwing all caution to the winds. "Thinkin' of upsettin' Jethro, be you?

The child came at his voice, and stood looking up at him silently. "H-how old be you, Cynthy?" "Nine," answered Cynthia, promptly. "L-like the country, Cynthy like the country better than the city?" "Oh, yes," said Cynthia. "And country folks? L like country folks better than city folks?" "I didn't know many city folks," said Cynthia.

A-a-h!" he broke off, flourishing his cane over his head, "there y-you slink; I w-wish I had hold of you." And I heard the running footsteps of No. 1 as he darted away, across and down the avenue. "An-and the police?" sarcastically resumed the big man, who wavered unsteadily now and then. "H-how useful are the police! How many do y-you see at this moment, pray, eh?

The lady turned, gave a gasp of amazement at the figure confronting her, and proceeded to annihilate it with an eye that few women possess. "H-how do, Ma'am," he said. Had he known anything about the appearance of women in general, he might have realized that he had struck a tartar. This lady was at least sixty-five, and probably unmarried.