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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"

I want to
ask you to excuse me for the way I did, and I can say I haven't any
feelings toward Edith now, but only wish her happiness and good in
her new life. I thank you for all your kindness to me, and I know
I made a poor return for it, but if you can overlook the way I behaved
I know I would feel a good deal happier--and I know Roscoe would, too.
I wish to promise not to be as foolish in the future, and the same
error would never occur again to make us all so unhappy, if you can be
charitable enought to excuse it this time."
He looked steadily at her without replying, and she stood before him,
never lifting her eyes; motionless, save where the moving fur proved
the agitation of her hands within the muff.
"All right," he said at last.
She looked up then with vast relief, though there was a revelation
of heavy tears when the eyelids lifted.
"Thank you," she said. "There's something else--about something
different--I want to say to you, but I want mother Sheridan to hear
it, too."
"She's up-stairs in her room," said Sheridan. "Roscoe--"
Sibyl interrupted. She had just seen Bibbs pass through the hall
and begin to ascend the stairs; and in a flash she instinctively
perceived the chance for precisely the effect she wanted.


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