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

"The Forfeit"


Elvine laughed.
"Would she? I wonder."
Then she hurried on lest her observation should be interpreted.
"And you're going to quit our city to-morrow for your wonderful ranch.
I guess the Cattle Week's liable to bore folks who've real work in the
world--like you. It's just a week of show, and glitter, and ceremony,
all those things which have no real place in the world of things that
matter. But there, after all, I wonder what are the things that
matter. And do they matter anyway? We have no guide. We're just left
to grope around and search for ourselves, and every folk's ideas are
different from every other folk's. I'm restless. I sort of feel
there's so much to be done in the world--if we only knew how, and what."
The half-bantering manner of the woman did not disguise her
earnestness. Jeff shook his head.
"Guess I can't say. Guess none of us can--rightly. But why not come
around to the ranch and see things? See if you can worry out an
answer. See if you think the work we're doing matters. It certainly
does matter to me, to us.


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