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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"

"
"No, no!" exclaimed Mary, sharply.
"Listen," said Sibyl. "Now suppose I go to Father Sheridan with
this story, and Edith says it's not true; suppose she says Lamhorn
has a good reputation and that I'm repeating irresponsible gossip,
or suppose (what's most likely) she loses her temper and says I
invented it, then what am I going to do? Father Sheridan doesn't
know Mrs. Kittersby and her daughter, and they're out of the question,
anyway. But suppose I could say: 'All right, if you want proof,
ask Miss Vertrees. She came with me, and she's waiting in the next
room right now, to--"
"No, no," said Mary, quickly. "You mustn't--"
"Listen just a minute more," Sibyl urged, confidingly. She was on
easy ground now, to her own mind, and had no doubt of her success.
"You naturally don't want to begin by taking part in a family quarrel,
but if YOU take part in it, it won't be one. You don't know yourself
what weight you carry over there, and no one would have the right
to say you did it except out of the purest kindness. Don't you see
that Jim and his father would admire you all the more for it? Miss
Vertrees, listen! Don't you see we OUGHT to do it, you and I? Do you
suppose Robert Lamhorn cares a snap of his finger for her? Do you
suppose a man like him would LOOK at Edith Sheridan if it wasn't for
the money?" And again Sibyl's emotion rose to the surface.


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