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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

Why, indeed, should I think otherwise? How could I venture
to believe you would ever really care in that way for such a waif as I?
You have seen other women in that great Eastern world of which I have
only read--refined, cultured, princesses, belonging to your own social
circle,--how should I suppose you could forget them, and give your
heart to a little outcast, a girl without a name or a home? Rather
should it be I who might remain perplexed and bewildered."
"I love you," he said, with simple honesty. "I seek you for my wife."
She started at these frankly spoken words, her hands partially
concealing her face, her form trembling. "Oh, I wish you hadn't said
that! It is not because I doubt you any longer; not that I fail to
appreciate all you offer me. But it is so hard to appear ungrateful,
to give nothing in return for so vast a gift."
"Then it is true that you do not love me?"
The blood flamed suddenly up into her face, but there was no lowering
of the eyes, no shrinking back. She was too honest to play the coward
before him.
"I shall not attempt to deceive you," she said, with a slow
impressiveness instantly carrying conviction.


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