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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Shavings"

"
"I see. But, oh, Jed, it is dreadful! What SHALL we do? What
will become of us all? And now, when I--I had just begun to be
happy, really happy."
She caught her breath in a sob. Jed instinctively stretched out
his hand.
"But there," she went on, hurriedly wiping her eyes, "I mustn't do
this. This is no time for me to think of myself. Jed, this
mustn't go any further. He must not ask her to marry him; he must
not think of such a thing."
Jed sadly shook his head. "I'm afraid you're right," he said.
"Not as things are now he surely mustn't. But--but, Mrs. Ruth--"
"Oh, don't!" impatiently. "Don't use that silly 'Mrs.' any longer.
Aren't you the--the best friend I have in the world? Do call me
Ruth."
If she had been looking at his face just then she might have seen--
things. But she was not looking. There was an interval of silence
before he spoke.
"Well, then--er--Ruth--" he faltered.
"That's right. Go on."
"I was just goin' to ask you if you thought Charlie was cal'latin'
to ask her. I ain't so sure that he is."
He told of Charles' recent visit to the windmill shop and the young
man's query concerning the making of a decision. She listened
anxiously.
"But don't you think that means that he was wondering whether or
not he should ask her?" she said.
"No. That is, I don't think it's sartin sure it means that.


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