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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Daughter of Anderson Crow"

Wicker, I don't want to
know the truth. I am afraid--I am afraid."
She was trembling like a leaf and there was positive distress in her
eyes, eyes half covered by lids tense with alarm.
"Don't feel that way about it, dear," cried he, recovering from his
astonishment and instantly grasping the situation as it must have
appeared to her. "To tell you the truth, I do not believe that Mr.
Barnes is related to you in any way. If he is connected with the case at
all, it is in the capacity of attorney."
"But he is supposed to be an honourable man."
"True, and I still believe him to be. It does not seem possible that he
can be engaged in such work as this. We are going altogether on
supposition--putting two and two together, don't you know, and hoping
they will stick. But, in any event, we must not let any chance slip by.
If he is interested, we must bring him to time. It may mean the
unravelling of the whole skein, dear. Don't look so distressed. Be
brave. It doesn't matter what we learn in the end, I love you just the
same. You shall be my wife."
"I _do_ love you, Wicker. I will always love you."
"Dear little sweetheart!"
They whirled up to the lodge gate at Judge Brewster's place at last, the
throbbing machine coming to a quick stop. Before he called out to the
lodge keeper, Bonner impulsively drew her gloveless hand to his lips.


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