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Updated: June 5, 2025
Nella-Rose was still and watchful, but Truedale had never been more cruelly alive than he was then when, with his wider knowledge, he realized the step he had taken. Whether it were for life or death, he had blotted out effectually all that had gone to the making of the man he once was.
The wretched fez fell from the soft hair the bedraggled robe from the rigid shoulders and there, garbed in a rough home-spun gown, a little plaid shawl and a checked apron, stood "It's the no-count," thought Truedale. Aloud he said, "Nella-Rose!"
There was a dying fire on the hearth and the room was in order except for the wide table upon which still lay the work Lynda had been engaged with before she left the house. Truedale sat down before it and gradually became absorbed, while not really taking in the meaning of what he saw. He had often studied and appreciated Lynda's original way of solving her problems.
Faithful, pure, she could not forgive the truth!" Truedale, thinking so of Lynda Kendall, owned to his best self that because the woman who now filled his life held to her high ideals would never lower them he could honour and reverence her. If she, like him, could change, and accept selfishly that which she would scorn in another, she would not be the splendid creature she was.
Then the two emerged from the cabin and strode boldly away. "The others!" whispered Truedale "will they come?" "Wait!" There was a stir a trampling but apparently the newcomers did not see Martin and Greyson. There was a crackling of underbrush by feet no longer feeling need of caution, then another space of silence before safety was made sure for the two in the bushes.
Now that she had made the great decision about Truedale, there was still "lil' Ann." Lynda fought for mastery over the dread thing that was forcing its way into her consciousness. Then something Nella-Rose was saying caught her fevered thought. "When I was a lil' child I used to dream that some day I would do a mighty big thing maybe this is it.
Suddenly the mood passed and all at once Truedale realized that he was tired deadly tired. The perspiration stood on his forehead he ached from the strain of cramped muscles. Then he looked at his watch; it was eleven o'clock! The stillness out of doors bespoke a sullen break in the storm.
"Little Ann," was all he could say, but he bent and kissed the child solemnly. When morning dawned, Lynda came back bringing her little son with her. God had spoken! Truedale, sitting beside her, one hand upon the downy head that had nearly cost so much, saw the mother-lips move. "You want the baby?" he asked. "I I want little Ann." Then the white lids fell, shutting away the weak tears.
There wasn't any one about so I I ran down the big road the train comes on to meet it. The big fire-eye a-glaring and the mighty noise a-snorting and I reckoned it was old Master Satan and I just couldn't move!" "Go on! go on!" Truedale bent close to her she had caught him in the mesh of her dramatic charm. "I saw it a-coming, and set on on devouring o' me, and still I couldn't stir.
When that came it would be better to be where curious eyes could not behold them. Perhaps Truedale was a bit anxious over this perhaps he might have to take Lynda away after the first act, and before the second began, in order to give her time and opportunity to rally her splendid serenity.
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