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

"The Forfeit"

"But--but maybe you
don't feel like turning in yet. My Daddy usually goes at this time,
and--he's had a hard day."
Bud looked across at her. His pipe was removed from his mouth for the
purpose of protest. But the protest remained unspoken in face of the
meaning he beheld in the girl's brown eyes. Instead he rose heavily
from his rocker.
"Say, jest take your time, Jeff, boy," he said. "Guess you'll need to
think hard before mornin'. I don't guess it's your way to jump at
things. I ain't never see you jump yet. Anyway, when you're thinkin',
boy, it'll be best to remember that a woman's jest a woman, an' her
notions ain't allus our notions."
Nan came over to him, and he rested one great arm about her shoulders,
and stooped and kissed her.
"Good-night, little gal," he said. "Maybe Jeff'll excuse me. An'
maybe you ken tell him some o' them things that don't come easy to me.
So long, Jeff. I'll sure see you in the mornin' before you quit."
He stood uncertainly for a moment with his arm upon Nan's shoulders.


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