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Updated: June 3, 2025
Mars' David, he done went he own way, drinkin', gamblin' and cussin'; he lak a madman when he baby die. He seem skeered when he see Miss Pepeeta. She look at him wid her big black eyes full of wonder and s'prise, stretch out her li'l han's, and when he run away or struck her, she des go out to the li'l baby's grave, creeping along lak a shadder through the gyahden, soft lak and still.
His Sundays were spent at the old homestead with his loved ones, and once every week Pepeeta came with Steven to bring him luxuries which her own hands had prepared, and to pass the afternoon with him at his work in the "clearing." Those were memorable hours, possessing that three-fold existence with which every hour can be endowed by the soul of man anticipation realization recollection.
Come in, and let us k-k-kill the fatted calf!" Coarse as the welcome was, it was full of sincerity, and its heartiness was like balm to the wounded spirit of the youth. He grasped the extended hand and permitted himself to be drawn into the room. Pepeeta, who had recovered from the first shock of surprise and delight, came forward and greeted him with a shy reserve.
Nothing could have more perfectly resembled an accident. An adept in crime could not have performed this task with finer skill, and he was free now to turn to the rest of the work that he must do to conceal this ghastly deed. Approaching the buggy, he found to his immense relief that Pepeeta was still unconscious.
At these words, Pepeeta sprang from her seat and stood before him with her hands clasped upon her breast. "Be quick! go on!" she cried, when she had waited in vain for him to proceed. "Prepare yourself for a revelation of treachery and dishonor. I can conceal my crime no longer. If I hold my peace the very stones in the street will cry out against me." "Make haste!"
Pepeeta asked, imitating his melodramatic manner. "Yes! No one in the world knows of it, but Uncle Dave and me. We always used to cook our dinner here, and play we were robbers."
They will miss you at the stable to-night, but I will send you back to-morrow, or ride you myself, that is if Pepeeta wishes to be rid of me." He said this teasingly, but smiled at her, a tender and confident smile. "Oh! you shall never leave me again not for a moment," she cried, pressing his arm against her heart. He paused a moment and looked down as if a new thought had struck him.
Waiting long before he answered, as if to reflect and be sure, David said quietly but confidently, "Pepeeta, I cannot see any reason why we should not begin our lives over again, starting at this very place from which we made that false beginning three long years ago. We cannot go back, but, in a sense, we can begin again." "But can we really begin again?" she asked. "How is it possible?
The turn which had been given to the emotions of these quiet people by the reading of the parable had been so sudden and so powerful that perhaps not a single person in the room doubted that David and Pepeeta would at once rise and enter into that holy contract for which the way seemed to have been so easily opened by the tender story of the father's love for the prodigal son.
She had even forgotten it, but now it rose vividly before her memory. These moments of revision, when the logic of events throws into clear light the vaguely perceived motives of the soul, are always dramatic and often terrible. It was Pepeeta who broke the silence following David's outburst. In a voice preternaturally calm, she said, "We are in the presence of God, and I demand of you the truth.
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