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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

"It only weakens me at a time when I require all my
strength of will."
"Sometimes I feel just like a coward, Bob. It's the woman of it; yet
truly I wish to do whatever you believe to be best. But, Bob, I need
you so much, and you will come back, won't you? I shall be so lonely
here, for--for you are truly all I have in the world."
With one quick, impulsive motion he pressed her to him, passionately
kissing the tears from her lowered lashes, unable longer to conceal the
tremor that shook his own voice. "Never, never doubt it, lassie. It
will not take me long, and if I live I come straight back."
He watched her slender, white-robed figure as it passed slowly down the
deserted street. Once only she paused, and waved back to him, and he
returned instant response, although scarcely realizing the act.
"Poor little lonely girl! perhaps I ought to have told her the whole
infernal story, but I simply haven't got the nerve, the way it reads
now. If I can only get it straightened out, it'll be different."
Mechanically he thrust an unlighted cigar between his teeth, and
descended the steps, to all outward appearance the same reckless,
audacious Hampton as of old.


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