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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"A Girl of the Limberlost"

Kill or cure,
you get it now!"
"What are you frothing about?" coolly asked Mrs. Comstock.
"You!" cried Margaret. "You! The woman who doesn't pretend to love her
only child. Who lets her grow to a woman, as you have let Elnora, and
can't be satisfied with every sort of neglect, but must add abuse yet;
and all for a fool idea about a man who wasn't worth his salt!"
Mrs. Comstock picked up a hoe.
"Go right on!" she said. "Empty yourself. It's the last thing you'll
ever do!"
"Then I'll make a tidy job of it," said Margaret. "You'll not touch me.
You'll stand there and hear the truth at last, and because I dare face
you and tell it, you will know in your soul it is truth. When Robert
Comstock shaved that quagmire out there so close he went in, he wanted
to keep you from knowing where he was coming from. He'd been to see
Elvira Carney. They had plans to go to a dance that night----"
"Close your lips!" said Mrs. Comstock in a voice of deadly quiet.
"You know I wouldn't dare open them if I wasn't telling you the truth.
I can prove what I say. I was coming from Reeds. It was hot in the woods
and I stopped at Carney's as I passed for a drink. Elvira's bedridden
old mother heard me, and she was so crazy for some one to talk with, I
stepped in a minute. I saw Robert come down the path. Elvira saw him,
too, so she ran out of the house to head him off. It looked funny, and
I just deliberately moved where I could see and hear.


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