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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"Peregrine's Progress"

"Oh, pray--pray
don't weep!" I pleaded. "If I have hurt you, I crave your
forgiveness!" Here she sobbed but the fiercer. "But indeed--indeed," I
stammered, "I thought--that is, I did not think, I--I mean I could not
leave you destitute and having no money to bestow, I--"
"Money!" cried she bitterly. "Money!" And here, checking her sobs,
added very unreasonably, "I hates you!"
"Please," said I, "oh, pray believe I meant only kindness! I thought
you were--"
"A girl o' the road, a creeper o' ditches and byways--well, I'm not, I
tell ye--I'm not! And I only followed ye because you were so wishful
to be rid o' me and because you were so silly and young and strange I
couldn't understand ye. But I do now, and I'm done wi' you! Go
away--go away; I hates you more than Bennigo or Jochabed--go away, I
hates you!"
"Blind me, and no wonder!" chuckled a hoarse voice behind me with such
startling suddenness as for a moment bereft me of speech or motion;
then, wheeling about, I came face to face with a rough-clad,
villainous-looking man who stood, powerful legs apart, hairy fists
grasping a short, heavy stick or bludgeon, and evil head out-thrust to
stare beyond me at the prostrate form of my companion who had merely
lifted her head to watch us through her tumbled hair.
"What d' you want?" I questioned the fellow, breathlessly.
"Never you mind, my chick," he growled, leering upon the girl's
shapeliness with evil eyes.


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