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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"Peregrine's Progress"


"I hate you!" she exclaimed vehemently.
"No matter!" said I.
"You're a--a coward!"
"I know it!" I sighed.
"A fool wi' no manliness in you!"
"Agreed!" quoth I. "You shall teach me better--"
"I'm done wi' you--finished, d'ye hear?"
"Also, I begin to suspect that you are really a little annoyed with
me, Diana; pray, why?"
"Ah! You know why!"
"Then be generous and try to forgive me!"
By this time we had reached a little wood where flowed a stream, its
murmurous waters brimful of sunset glory; and here, as by common
consent, we paused a while to look down at this reflected splendour,
and when at last she spoke, her voice was gentle, almost pleading.
"The duck was--only a duck, Peregrine."
"Yes!" said I.
"And we were hungry--you know you were?"
"Very hungry, Diana."
"And the--the three guineas as I--finds in--that beast's pocket did us
more good than it could ha' done him?"
"True, Diana."
"And I only took it because it--it was there to take--and might be
useful. But now we--we don't need it any more--I don't, so--there it
goes!" And with a sudden gesture she cast into the brook a handful of
coins, among which I caught the sheen of gold and silver. "But I--I
ain't a thief--I'm not!" she cried passionately. "I never stole
anything all my days; I--I only--prig--" Here, acting on sudden
impulse, I caught her hand to my lips.
"O Diana," said I, "dear child, it is in my mind you will never prig
again, either--"
"But I shall--I know I shall!" she cried, a little wildly, but
yielding her hand to my lips.


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