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Gregory, Jackson, 1882-1943

"The Bells of San Juan"

You are not the brute toward
me; what you do, I do not so much as censure you for. I am not going
to quarrel with you; were I in your boots I imagine I'd do just exactly
as you are doing. I hope I'd be as nice about it, too. And now,
before we drop the subject for good and all, let me say this: no matter
what I do, should it even be the betraying you into the hands of your
enemies, to put it quite tragically, I want you to know that I wish you
well and that is why I do it. Can you understand me?"
"Yes," he said slowly. "It's sweet of you, Virginia. If you got my
gun and shot my head off, I don't know who should blame you. I
shouldn't!" he concluded with a forced attempt to match her smile.
"Then we understand each other? As long as each does the best he can
see his way to do, the other finds no fault?" And when he nodded she
rose quickly and came to him, putting out her hand as he rose. "Rod
Norton," she said simply, and her eyes shone steady and clear into his,
"I wish you the best there is. I think we should both pray a little to
God to help us to-night. . . . And now, if you will run up to your
Treasure Chamber and bring down the coffee, I'll promise to be here
when you get back. And to make you a good hot drink; I feel the need
of it and so do you.


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