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Lillibridge, Will (William Otis), 1878-1909

"Where the Trail Divides"

I'm liable to even fancy I
don't like you and run away."
"If you did you'd return very soon."
"Return?" She looked at him fully. "You think so?"
"I know so."
"Why, How?"
"Because you care for me."
"But it would be because I didn't care for you that I'd go, you know."
"You'd find your mistake and come back."
The clasped hand locked, as once before they had done.
"And when I did--come back--you'd forgive me, How?"
"There'd be nothing to forgive."
"It wouldn't be wrong--to leave you that way?"
"To me you could do no wrong, Bess."
"Not if I did anything, if I--ran away with another man?"
The listener smiled, until the beardless face was very, very boyish.
"I can't imagine the impossible, Bess."
"But just supposing I should?" insistently. "You'd take me back, no
matter what I'd done, and forgive me?"
For a half minute wherein the smile slowly vanished from his face the
man did not answer, merely looked at her; then for the first time since
they had been speaking his eyes dropped.
"I could forgive you anything, Bess; but to take you back, to have
everything go on as before--I am human. I could not."
A moment longer the two remained so, each staring at their feet; then of
a sudden, interrupting, the girl laughed, unmusically, hysterically.
"I'm glad you said that, How," she exulted; "glad I compelled you to say
it. As you confess, it makes you seem more human.


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