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Manners, J. Hartley, 1870-1928

"Peg O' My Heart"


Brent went to her. "Glad to see me?" he asked.
"Why not?"
"I am glad to see you." He bent over her. "More than glad."
"Really?"
He sat beside her: "Ethel," he whispered intensely: "I am at the
Cross-roads."
"Oh?" commented Ethel, without any interest.
"It came last night."
"Did it?"
"This is the end--between Sybil and myself."
"Is it?"
"Yes--the end. It's been horrible from the first--horrible. There's
not a word of mine--not an action--she doesn't misunderstand."
"How boring," said Ethel blandly.
"She would see harm even in THIS!"
"Why?"
"She'd think I was here to--to--" he stopped.
"What?" innocently inquired Ethel.
"Make love to you," and he looked earnestly into her eyes.
She met his look quite frankly and astonished him with the question:
"Well? Aren't you?"
He rose anxiously: "Ethel!"
"Don't you always?" persisted Ethel.
"Has it seemed like that to you?"
"Yes," she answered candidly. "By insinuation: never
straightforwardly."
"Has it offended you?"
"Then you admit it?"
"Oh," he cried passionately, "I wish I had the right to--to--" again
he wavered.
"Yes?" and Ethel looked straight at him.
"Make love to you straightforwardly." He felt the supreme moment had
almost arrived.


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