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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"

"
"No, no, I wasn't hurt at all--Mary. It was father who came nearer
it. He saved me."
"Yes, I saw; but you had fallen. I couldn't get through the crowd
until you had gone. And I wanted to KNOW."
"Mary--would you--have minded?" he said.
There was a long interval before she answered.
"Yes."
"Then why--"
"Yes, Bibbs?"
"I don't know what to say," he cried. "It's so wonderful to hear
your voice again--I'm shaking, Mary--I--I don't know--I don't know
anything except that I AM talking to you! It IS you--Mary?"
"Yes, Bibbs!"
"Mary--I've seen you from my window at home--only five times since
I--since then. You looked--oh, how can I tell you? It was like
a man chained in a cave catching a glimpse of the blue sky, Mary.
Mary, won't you--let me see you again--near? I think I could make
you really forgive me--you'd have to--"
"I DID--then."
"No--not really--or you wouldn't have said you couldn't see me any
more."
"That wasn't the reason." The voice was very low.
"Mary," he said, even more tremulously than before, "I can't--you
COULDN'T mean it was because--you can't mean it was because you--
care?"
There was no answer.


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