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

"The Forfeit"

But his eyes came back to the face with its
crowning of beautiful dark hair, nor was there any change in their
expression as a result of their survey.
"As well now as later."
"What is it?"
For the first time Jeff found himself gazing into the wide dark eyes.
There was pain in them. Apprehension. There were the signs about them
of long sleepless nights. He shut the sight of these things out by the
process of turning away to observe the general movement going on in the
near distance.
"Guess there's no use to say a deal," he said, a curiously moody note
taking possession of his voice. "If I did, why, I'd likely say a whole
heap more than a man may say to his wife. Guess the right an' wrong of
things had best lie in our hearts. You know just what you did, and why
you did it. I know what you did, an' can only guess why you did it. I
don't figger any talk could convince either of us different to how we
think and feel. Maybe there's Someone knows the rights of this thing
better than either of us. That being so, I allow He'll ultimately fix
things as He intends.


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