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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Rose in the Ring"

I couldn't bear that now." Her arms were spread out against the
building, her hands clenched. In the darkness he could see her eyes,
wide and staring.
"I swear it, Mary. I was not within a mile of Broadso's. I am as
innocent of that murder as you are. You will know the truth to-morrow,
even if you don't believe me now. I'll never hear the true story. Oh,
I don't mind saying I would have given my very soul to have been the
one to do it. Maybe you think I'm pleased that he is dead. Well, I'm
not! I begrudge those fellows the pleasure they had in killing him.
But, this is not the time or place to talk. Let's say good-by here,
Mary. You go back to the house. Let me go and do it alone."
She swayed toward him. He caught her on his arm,--an arm of iron. She
put her hand to his face.
"Tom," she whispered, "God has taken a hand in our affairs--in yours.
You must believe in God! You must give yourself to Him to-night."
His voice broke a little. "I--I guess you'll have to do the prayin',
Mary. Go back to the house now and send up a little prayer for me.
That's all you've got to do. I can't stay here.


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