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

"The Forfeit"

The man abandoned his attitude in a
movement of fierce resentment. He swung round on the questioner, his
eyes hot with feeling.
"Because I guess I need to sleep somewhere. Because nothing on earth
could make me share roof with the woman who's my wife. Gee, my wife!
Say, Nan, the thought of it nearly sets me crazy."
"Does it? You didn't feel that way--two nights ago."
The man's eyes met the girl's incredulously.
"How can you talk that way?" he demanded roughly. "I didn't know a
thing then. I thought she was all she seemed. Maybe I was just a
blind fool, crazy with love. Anyway--I hadn't learned the hell lying
around her heart."
"I s'pose there is hell lying around her heart?"
Nan's words were provocative. Yet they were spoke in such a tone of
simplicity as to rob them of all apparent intent.
Jeff was in no mood for patience. Swift resentment followed upon his
incredulous stare.
"Do you need me to give it you all again?" he cried fiercely. "It
don't need savvee to grip things." Then his voice rose.


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