"No, no, no, she mustn't," he cried, quickly.
"I--I don't want her to talk about it. I--I don't want anybody to
talk about it. Please tell her not to, Charlie! Please! It's--
it's all such foolishness anyhow. Let's forget it."
"It isn't the sort of thing one forgets easily. But we won't talk
of it any more just now, if that pleases you better. I have some
other things to talk about and I must talk about them with some
one. I MUST--I've got to."
Jed looked at him. The words reminded him forcibly of Ruth's on
that day when she had come to the windmill shop to tell him her
brother's story and to discuss the question of his coming to Orham.
She, too, had said that she must talk with some one--she MUST.
"Have--you talked 'em over with--with your sister?" he asked.
"Yes. But she and I don't agree completely in the matter. You
see, Ruth thinks the world of me, she always did, a great deal more
than I deserve, ever have deserved or ever will. And in this
matter she thinks first of all of me--what will become of me
provided--well, provided things don't go as I should like to have
them. That isn't the way I want to face the question. I want to
know what is best for every one, for her, for me and--and for some
one else--most of all for some one else, I guess," he added.
Jed nodded slowly. "For Maud," he said.
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