"
"I know enough. Greevy done it, an' I'm here." With no apparent
coherence and relevancy Sinnet continued, but his voice was not so even
as before. "Em'ly was a girl that wasn't twice alike. She was
changeable. First it was one, then it was another, and she didn't seem
to be able to fix her mind. But that didn't prevent her leadin' men on.
She wasn't changeable, though, about her father. She was to him what
your boy was to you. There she was like you, ready to give everything up
for her father."
"I tell y' I don't want to hear about her," said Buckmaster, getting
to his feet and setting his jaws. "You needn't talk to me about her.
She'll git over it. I'll never git over what Greevy done to me or
to Clint--jest twenty, jest twenty! I got my work to do."
He took his gun from the wall, slung it into the hollow of his arm, and
turned to look up the valley through the open doorway.
The morning was sparkling with life--the life and vigour which a touch of
frost gives to the autumn world in a country where the blood tingles to
the dry, sweet sting of the air. Beautiful, and spacious, and buoyant,
and lonely, the valley and the mountains seemed waiting, like a new-born
world, to be peopled by man. It was as though all had been made ready
for him--the birds whistling and singing in the trees, the whisk of the
squirrels leaping from bough to bough, the peremptory sound of the
woodpecker's beak against the bole of a tree, the rustle of the leaves as
a wood-hen ran past--a waiting, virgin world.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104