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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

Your methods are cruel."
"Mine?" and she gazed at him with parted lips. "Lieutenant Brant, what
can you mean? What is it I have done?"
"It may have been only play to you, and so easily forgotten," he went
on, bitterly. "But that is a dangerous game, very certain to hurt some
one. Miss Naida, your face, your eyes, even your lips almost
continually tell me one thing; your words another. I know not which to
trust. I never meet you except to go away baffled and bewildered."
"You wish to know the truth?"
"Ay, and for ail time! Are you false, or true? Coquette, or woman?
Do you simply play with hearts for idle amusement, or is there some
true purpose ruling your actions?"
She looked directly at him, her hands clasped, her breath almost
sobbing between the parted lips. At first she could not speak. "Oh,
you hurt me so," she faltered at last. "I did not suppose you could
ever think that. I--I did not mean it; oh, truly I did not mean it!
You forget how young I am; how very little I know of the world and its
ways. Perhaps I have not even realized how deeply in earnest you were,
have deceived myself into believing you were merely amusing yourself
with me.


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