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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"Peregrine's Progress"

Thus
they talked awhile, Diana scowling and fierce, he grinning and
impudent.
"Hey, my buck!" he cried suddenly, tossing the ash stick to me. "You
can tak' it; aye, tak' it--'t will be more use to you nor me--her'll
need it more nor my pony, aye, that 'er will. Don't stand none o' her
tricks, pal, though her'll take a lot o' taming, an' you ain't no
match for 'er by your looks, but lay into 'er wi' yon stick an' do
your best--" Having said which, he laughed again and, turning his
pony, trotted off. Outraged by his insolence, I caught up the stick
with some notion of running after him, but Diana checked me.
"Not him!" she said. "He ain't--isn't like Gabbing Dick; he's a
fighting man and dangerous."
"Who is he?" I demanded.
"A Romany."
"And what did the fellow say to you?"
"Nothing to harm."
"Did he suggest--the--the same as the Peddler and that hateful old
hag?"
"Lord--and what if he did?"
"Why, then," I answered, "for your sake there is but one of two
courses that I can honourably adopt. I must either leave you at once
or marry you at the--the first opportunity."
"Marry me!" she breathed. "Marry--me?"
"Exactly!" said I, folding my arms and staring down into the stream in
a very determined fashion. At this, she sat so very still and silent
that at last I ventured to glance up, to find her regarding me
great-eyed. Then, all at once, to my indignant surprise, she began to
laugh, but ceased as suddenly, and I wondered to see her eyes brimming
with tears.


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