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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Her Father's Daughter"


Sounds primitive, doesn't it?"
"It sounds true," said Donald reflectively. "I see, young lady,
where one is going to have to measure his words and think before
he talks to you."
"Pretty thought!" said Linda lightly. "We'll have a great time
if you must stop to consider every word before you say it."
"Well, anyway," said Donald, "when are we going to have that
fight which was the purpose of our coming together?"
"Why, we're not ever going to have it," answered Linda. "I have
got nothing in this world to fight with you about since you're
doing your level best to beat Oka Sayye. I have watched your
head above the remainder of your class for three years and wanted
to fight with you on that point."
"Now that's a queer thing," said Donald, "because I have watched
you for three years and wanted to fight with you about your
drygoods, and now since I've known you only such a short while, I
don't care two whoops what you wear. It's a matter of perfect
indifference to me. You can wear French heels or baby pumps, or
go barefoot. You would still be you."
"Is it a truce?" asked Linda. I
"No, ma'am," said Donald, "it's not a truce. That implies war
and we haven't fought. It's not armed neutrality; it's not even
watchful waiting. It's my friend, Linda Strong. Me for her and
her for me, if you say so."
He reached out his hand. Linda laid hers in it, and looking into
his eyes, she said: "That is a compact.


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