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

"The Forfeit"


"Oh, I--I don't know what to do. I sort of feel I just can't--can't stop
around. And yet---- Oh, I love him so I can't, daren't leave him
altogether. You can't understand, child, no one can. You--oh, you've
never known what love is, my dear. I'm mad--mad for him. And--and I can
never come into his life again."
She dropped her hands from her head in a movement that to Nan seemed as
though she were wringing them. Nan's own heart was thumping in her
bosom. She, too, could have cried out. But her eyes steadily, and
almost tenderly, regarded the woman who had taken Jeff from her.
"You must stop around," she said in a low, firm tone. "Say, Evie, I
don't guess I'm bright, or clever, or anything like that. I don't reckon
I know things different to other folk. But just think how it would be if
you went away now. You'd never see Jeff again, maybe, and he'd never
know just how you love him. You see, men-folk are so queer, too. Maybe
Jeff's right, and you and me are wrong. Maybe we're right, and he's all
wrong.


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