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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"The Delectable Duchy"

She
did not lift her eyes. Before Job could speak--
"He was my lover," she said, and shivered.
"Mar--ty--"
She looked up now, hardened her ugly, twitching face, forced her eyes
to meet her brother's, and went on breathlessly--
"I swear to you, Job--here, across this table--he was my lover; and
I ruined 'en. He was the only man, 'cept you and father, that ever
kissed me; and I betrayed 'en. As the Lord liveth, I stood up in the
box and swore away his name to save mine. An' what's more, he made
me."
"Mar--ty Lear!"
"Don't hinder me, Job. It's God's truth I'm tellin' 'ee. His folks
were a low lot, an' father'd have broken every bone o' me. But we used
to meet in the orchard 'most every night. Don't look so, brother. I'm
past sixty, an' nothin' known; an' now evil an' good's the same to
me."
"Go on."
"Well, the last night he came over 'twas spring tides, an' past the
flood. I was waitin' for 'en in the orchard, down in the corner by the
Adam's Pearmain. We could see the white front o' the house from there,
and us in the dark shadow: and there was the gap handy, that Amos
could snip through at a pinch--you fenced it up yoursel' the very
summer that father died in the fall.


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