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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Frontier Stories"

If you want thome money, there it ith." He
took a buckskin purse from his pocket. "If you won't take it from
me"--he hesitated as she made no reply--"Athley'th flush and ready to
lend you thome."
She had not seemed to hear him, but had stooped in some embarrassment,
picked up the knife and hastily hid it, then with averted face and
nervous fingers was beginning to tear strips of loose bark from the
nearest trunk.
"Well, what do you thay?"
"I don't want any money, and I shall stay here." She hesitated, looked
around her, and then added, with an effort, "I suppose you meant well.
Be it so! Let bygones be by-gones. You said just now, 'It's the same
old Teresa.' So she is, and seeing she's the same she's better here
than anywhere else."
There was enough bitterness in her tone to call for Curson's
half-perfunctory sympathy.
"That be d----d," he responded quickly. "Jutht thay you'll come, Tita,
and"--
She stopped his half-spoken sentence with a negative gesture. "You
don't understand. I shall stay here."
"But even if they don't theek you here, you can't live here forever.


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