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Page 27
She sent him a shifting, hunted glance.
'Let me get home... you must let me get home.'
She made a tremulous, pitiful attempt at firmness. Eyeing her keenly, he
barred her path: she flushed scarlet, and looked hastily away across the
valley.
'If ye'll tell me yer distress, mabbe I can help ye.'
'No, no, it's nothing... it's nothing.'
'If ye'll tell me yer distress, mabbe I can help ye,' he repeated, with
a solemn, deliberate sternness. She shivered, and looked away again,
vaguely, across the valley.
'You can do nothing: there's nought to be done,' she murmured drearily.
'There's a man in this business,' he declared.
'Let me go! Let me go!' she pleaded desperately.
'Who is't that's bin puttin' ye into this distress?' His voice sounded
loud and harsh.
'No one, no one. I canna tell ye, Mr. Garstin.... It's no one,' she
protested weakly. The white, twisted look on his face frightened her.
'My God!' he burst out, gripping her wrist, 'an' a proper soft fool
ye've made o' me. Who is't, I tell ye? Who's t' man?'
'Ye're hurtin' me. Let me go. I canna tell ye.'
'And ye're fond o' him?'
'No, no. He's a wicked, sinful man. I pray God I may never set eyes on
him again. I told him so.'
'But ef he's got ye into trouble, he'll hev t' marry ye,' he persisted
with a brutal bitterness.
'I will not. I hate him!' she cried fiercely.
'But is he _willin'_ t' marry ye?'
'I don't know ... I don't care ... he said so before he went
away ... But I'd kill myself sooner than live with him.'
He let her hands fall and stepped back from her. She could only see his
figure, like a sombre cloud, standing before her. The whole fell-side
seemed still and dark and lonely. Presently she heard his voice again:
'I reckon what there's one road oot o' yer distress.'
She shook her head drearily.
'There's none. I'm a lost woman.'
'An' ef ye took me instead?' he said eagerly.
'I--I don't understand--'
'Ef ye married me instead of Luke Stock?'
'But that's impossible--the--the--'
'Ay, t' child. I know. But I'll tak t' child as mine.'
She remained silent. After a moment he heard her voice answer in a
queer, distant tone:
'You mean that--that ye're ready to marry me, and adopt the child?'
'I do,' he answered doggedly.
'But people--your mother--?'
'Folks 'ull jest know nought about it. It's none o' their business. T'
child 'ull pass as mine. Ye'll accept that?'
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