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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Beth Norvell A Romance of the West"

She reeled
from sudden faintness, yet, before he could touch her in support, she
had sunk upon her knees, with head bowed low, the long tresses trailing
upon the ground.
"Beth! Beth!" he cried in an agony of fear.
She looked up at him, her expression that of earnest pleading.
"Yes, yes, I will go," she said, the words trembling; "but--but let me
pray first."
He stood motionless above her, his heart throbbing, his own eyes
lowered upon the ground. He was conscious of the movement of her lips,
yet could never afterward recall even a broken sentence of that prayer.
Possibly it was too sacred even for his ears, only to be measured by
the infinite love of God. She ceased to speak at last, the low voice
sinking into an inarticulate whisper, yet she remained kneeling there
motionless, no sound audible excepting her repressed sobbing. Driven
by the requirements of haste, Winston touched her gently upon the
shoulder.
"Come, my girl," he said, the sight of her suffering almost more than
he could bear.


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