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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"

There were a few
moments of anxious waiting; then she sighed, moved restlessly, and tried
to sit up.
"Lie still, Sylvia; you fainted; you've got to keep very quiet for a
few minutes."
"How stupid of me! But I'm all right now."
"I said, lie still."
"All right, all right, I will; but you'll frighten me out of my wits if
you use that tone of voice."
"I didn't mean to frighten you; but you've got to keep quiet, for your
own sake, Sylvia."
"I thought you said you wouldn't call me Sylvia."
"I've said a good many foolish things in the course of my life, and
changed my mind about them afterwards."
"Or feel sorry if I came to grief--"
"And a good many untrue and wicked ones for which I have repented
afterwards."
"Well, I did come to grief--or pretty nearly. I met three Polish workmen
on the road. I think they were--intoxicated. Anyway, they tried to stop
me. I was lucky in managing to turn in here--so quickly they didn't
realize what I was going to do. If I hadn't been near the entrance to
this wood-road--Austin, what makes you grip my hand so? You hurt.


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