I get to watching young
people sometimes--it seems as if they were like the young people in my
day, and I think any young man that's steady and decent and has a good
situation--what I mean is this, that he--well, it depends on the girl,
as it always did."
She turned and walked to the end of the pergola, fifty feet away. There
she threw up a clenched fist and began to emit groans, cries of hoarse
rage and ragged phrases of abuse. She was again rehearsing her lines in
the mob scene of the equal-suffrage play. At the head of her fellow
mobs-women, she hurled harsh epithets at the Prime Minister of the
oldest English-speaking nation on earth. There seemed to be no escape
for the Prime Minister. They had him.
"We've broken windows, we'll break heads!" shouted the Demon, and a
gardener crossing the grounds might have been seen to quicken his pace
after one backward look.
The pair on the bench were inattentive. They had instinctively drawn
together, but they were silent. In Bean's mind was a confusion of many
matters: Breede sleeping under a counter--people in log-cabins getting
married--the best coon-dog in York State--a yoke of nice fat steers--
But beneath this was a sharpened consciousness of the girl breathing at
his side. She seemed curiously to be waiting--waiting! The silence and
their stillness became unbearable. Something must break ... their breaths
were too long drawn.
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