"There's daughterly affection for you! By
rights it all ought to be mine. I've suffered enough, God knows, to
deserve a little comfort now."
"All that I have is yours, father. I want nothing for myself."
"Then hand it over--the control of it, I mean. I'll make you a
handsome allowance; and I'll give you this place, too. I don't want
to rot here.... Marry that good-looking parson and settle down, if
you like. I don't want to settle down: been settled in one cursed
place long enough, by gad! I should think you could see that."
"But you wanted to come home to Brookville, father. Don't you
remember you said--"
"That was when I was back there in that hell-hole, and didn't know
what I wanted. How could I? I only wanted to get out. That's what I
want now--to get out and away! If you weren't so damned selfish,
you'd let me go. I hate a selfish woman!"
Then it was that Jim Dodge, pressing closer to the long window, heard
her say quite distinctly:
"Very well, father; we will go. Only I must go with you.... You are
not strong enough to go alone. We will go anywhere you like."
Andrew Bolton got nimbly out of his chair and stood glowering at her
across its back. Then he burst into a prolonged fit of laughter mixed
with coughing.
"Oh, so you'll go with father, will you?" he spluttered. "You
insist--eh?"
And, still coughing and laughing mirthlessly, he went out of the
room.
Left to herself, the girl sat down quietly enough before the fire.
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