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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Tides of Barnegat"


Stay here with me."
Max straightened up and threw out his chest and
a determined look came into his eyes. If he had had
any doubts as to his departure Lucy's pleading voice
had now removed them.
"No, can't do it," he answered in mock positiveness.
"Can't 'pon my soul. Business is business.
Got to see Morton right away; ought to have seen
him before." Then he added in a more serious tone,
"Don't get worried if I stay a day or two longer."
"Well, then, go, you great bear, you," and she
rose to her feet and shook out her skirts. "I
wouldn't let you stay, no matter what you said."
She was not angry--she was only feeling about trying
to put her finger on the particular button that
controlled Max's movements. "Worried? Not a
bit of it. Stay as long as you please."
There WAS a button, could she have found it. It
was marked "Caution," and when pressed communicated
to the heir of Walnut Hill the intelligence that
he was getting too fond of the pretty widow and that
his only safety lay in temporary flight. It was a
favorite trick of his. In the charting of his course
he had often found two other rocks beside Scylla
and Charybdis in his way; one was boredom and
the other was love.


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