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Day, Holman (Holman Francis), 1865-1935

"The Ramrodders A Novel"

Others
heard, too. What I ought to do is go over there and stripe his old
Yankee hide with a horsewhip. But you tell him for me that that would be
taking too much stock in anything that a politician in your
politics-ridden States could say. That's all. You've got it, blunt and
straight. And, by-the-way, I understand he's making a politician out of
you, too, to-day? I'm taking this thing just in time!"
The young man and the girl looked at each other. It was a pitiful,
appealing glance that they exchanged. Shame surged in both of them. In
that gaze, also, was mutual apology for the ruthless ones who had dealt
such insult that day in their hearing; there was hopelessness that any
words from them to each other, just then, could help the situation. And
in that gaze, too, there was proud denial, from one to the other, that
anything except friendship, the true, honest comradeship of youth, had
drawn them together.
Kavanagh eyed them with grim relish. The thought that he was harrying
one of the Thorntons overbore any consideration he felt for his
daughter, even if he stopped to think that her affection was anything
except the silliness of childhood.


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