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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Beth Norvell A Romance of the West"

You tink so? Oh, eet--eet joys
me so--senor! senor!"
Motionless, almost breathless, but for the sobs shaking his great
figure, he held her tightly, bending low, her white cheek against his
own, her head pillowed upon his arm. About them was the silence, the
solemn night shadows, amid which waited Hicks and Winston earnestly
watching. Finally, the latter spoke gently, striving to arouse the
man; but Stutter Brown never lifted his head, never removed his eyes
from the death-white face upheld by his arm. As though stricken to
stone he remained motionless, seemingly lifeless, his face as pallid as
the dead he guarded. Hicks bent over and placed one hand upon his
shoulder.
"Stutter, ol' pard," he said, pleadingly. "I know it's mighty hard,
but don't take on so; don't act that way. It can't do her no manner o'
good now. It's all--all over with, an' you ain't helpin' her none
a-settin' thar that way."
The smitten man drew a deep breath, glancing up into the kindly, seamed
face bending over him, and about at the surrounding darkness.


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