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Cullum, Ridgwell, [pseud.], 1867-1943

"The Forfeit"

In the brief two
years of his married life no such sensation had ever possessed him.
But he recognized it. It was the breaking point. Effie no longer held
place in his affections. He glanced up at McFarlane as his deep tones
whispered in the silence.
"Yes, ma'am, get right back to home. There's no need for you to get
mussed up with what's goin' to happen. It's man's work, not a woman's.
Your husband's got my word. You'll find we aren't forgetful."
Then he drew back under cover, and moved away to where, scattered along
the path, well sheltered from view, a large party of dismounted
horsemen were awaiting his orders.
Effie turned to her husband.
"You're coming back with me, Bob?" she said, almost pleadingly. "It's
a long way to home."
Bob's eyes gazed straight into hers. Even in the darkness Effie felt
something of the coldness of his regard.
"Are you scared?" he demanded.
Effie shook her head.
"There's nothing to be scared at. But you've nothing to do with--the
rest of it."
"Haven't I?"
"You're not going down there with them?"
There was a curious sharpness in the woman's whispering voice.


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