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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Rose in the Ring"

"
The next morning, just after the parade, David went off for a walk in
the town. His thoughts were of the evening before and the half-hour he
had spent with Christine. He was thinking of her wonderfully
sympathetic eyes, of the live touch of her hand on his arm, of the
soft music in her voice, of the delicious words of faith and
confidence she had whispered. He could still feel the tight clasp of
her fingers on his arm; he could still hear the tremulous note in her
voice.
And how gravely she had smiled at him in the ring! What a profession
of deep loyalty there was in the glance she gave him when he passed
her in the dressing-tent! The world seemed to have grown brighter for
him all of a sudden. For the first time in weeks he whistled,--and it
was a blithe air that he lilted, for, by nature, he was a blithe lad.
His reverie was abruptly disturbed. Turning a corner he came upon a
group of town boys. They were making faces and hooting at a strange
figure that crouched against a high board fence. David recalled this
figure at once: a squat, hunchback lad who was to be seen at times
behind the counter of the "snack stand.


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