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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Wait until Daddy wants you to know." Under the eaves, hope grew in Truedale's heart. The old play had certainly the subtle human interest that is always vital. He was sure of that. Once, he almost decided to take Ann into his confidence. The child had such a dramatic sense. Then he laughed. It was absurd, of course!
What Greyson really had seen was Truedale's retreat after parting company with Jim, but not knowing of Truedale's existence he jumped to the conclusion which to his fuddled wits seemed probable, and had so informed Marg upon his return. "I tell yo', Nella-Rose," he ran on, "yo' better marry Burke and tame him. There ain't nothing as tames a man like layin' responsibilities on him."
How I shall see Uncle William in every room! Thank him, Con, and tell him I accept on his terms!" Then Truedale opened the third envelope and an enclosed letter fell out, bearing the postmark of the Junction near Pine Cone! There was a small electric reading lamp on the arm of Truedale's chair; he turned the light on and, while his face was in shadow, the words before him stood out illumined.
Failure, even wrong, might they not, if unfettered by the narrow limitations of here and now, prove miracle-working elements? Then the effect upon others entered into Truedale's musings as it had in the beginning. The "stories" of others! He leaned his head at this juncture upon his clasped hands and thought of Nella-Rose!
Then as stealthy as Indians they made their way to the other cabin Truedale's late shelter. They kept to the bushes and the edge of the woods they were like creeping animals until they reached the shack; then, standing erect and close, they went in the doorway.
Securing a guide, Truedale and Lynda sought their own way and slept, at night, in wayside shelters by their own campfires. They had no definite destination; they simply wandered like pilgrims, taking the day's dole with joyous hearts and going to their sleep at night with healthy weariness. Only once during those weeks did they speak of that past of Truedale's that Lynda had accepted in silence.
Her shoulders rose and fell convulsively, and Truedale, looking at her, became hopelessly wretched. "I'm a beast and nothing less!" he admitted by way of apology and excuse. "I I wish you could forgive me." Then slowly the head was raised and to Truedale's further consternation he saw that mirth, not anguish, had caused the shaking of those deceiving little shoulders. "Oh! I see you are laughing!"
By that time Jim had ceased scorching his way to Truedale's soul and was on the path to his own cabin. "Looks like yo' had a tussle with the storm," he remarked. "Any livin' thing killed?" "No." "Thank yo'!" Then, as if determined not to share any further confidence, White strode on. For a moment Truedale stood and stared after his host in impotent rage.
"I had to to lead Marg to Devil-may-come Hollow. She's hunting there now!" Nella-Rose's white teeth showed in a mischievous smile. "We're right safe with Marg down there, scurrying around. Come, I know a sunny place I want to tell you about Marg." Her childish appropriation of him completed Truedale's surrender. The absolute lack of self-consciousness drove the last remnant of caution away.
Truedale's bedraggled bath robe hung like a mantle from the shoulders of the intruder they were very straight, slim young shoulders; an old ridiculous fez an abomination of his freshman year, kept for sentimental reasons adorned the head of the small stranger and only partly held in check the mass of shadowy hair that rippled from it and around a mischievous face.
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