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Reed, Myrtle, 1874-1911

"Old Rose and Silver"

"
A shadow crossed his face. "It hurts me, someway, to have you talk so. I
don't know how--nor why."
In a single swift surge her colour came back. "All right," she answered,
quietly, "hereafter I'm thirty, also. Thanking you for giving me ten
more years of life, for I love it so!"
The sun was well up in the heavens when they came to the river, and the
dark, rippling surface gave back the light in a thousand little dancing
gleams. The ice was broken, the snow was gone, and fragments of
shattered crystal went gently toward the open sea, lured by the song of
the river underneath.
"It doesn't look deep," remarked Rose.
"But it is, nevertheless. I nearly drowned myself here when I was a kid,
trying to dive to the bottom."
"I'm glad you didn't succeed. What a heavy blow it would have been to
your father!"
"Dear old Dad," said Allison, gently. "I'm all he has."
"And all he wants."
"It's after eight," Allison complained, looking at his watch, "and I'm
starving."
"So am I. Likewise my skirts are wet, so we'd better go."
When they reached Madame Bernard's, Rose ordered breakfast in the
dining-room, for two, then excused herself to put on dry clothing.


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