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Woodrow, Nancy Mann Waddel, 1870-1935

"The Black Pearl"

Oh,
yes, she's like her father in more'n one way, both awful ambitious and
terrible fond of making money. Why," she added naively, "I've seen Pearl
look at a bank note like I never saw her look at a love letter."
"Well, she won't make much money up in those mountains, not dancing,
anyway," he laughed briefly and unmirthfully.
"It surprised me a lot, her going," admitted Mrs. Gallito; "she hates
the mountains."
"Then she won't stay long," put in Hanson quickly.
Mrs. Gallito was uncertain about this. "But," she confided presently,
"she took on awful to her father and Bob Flick. I didn't dare come out,
but I heard her through the door there. 'Where can I go,' she cried,
'where he won't come?' And she kept on saying she'd got to go somewhere
where you would never find her, because she didn't dare trust herself,
and she cried right out: 'I love him, I love him.'"
With these words, the confirmation of his hope, Hanson's blithe
self-confidence returned. He threw back his head and straightened his
shoulders, the light of an exultant purpose flashing in the steel of his
eye. "Pleasant for Bob!" he remarked in vindictive satisfaction; but as
he had still an end to gain, he did not permit his mind to gloat long
upon the agreeable picture Mrs. Gallito's words had suggested.
"Now, just let me talk a minute, Mrs. Gallito," leaning forward and
speaking in his most persuasive manner. "This whole thing is a
misunderstanding, that's all. Pearl didn't understand what I was trying
to say to her, and she lost her temper and wouldn't let me finish.


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