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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

'" He rolled
the r threateningly, as Kami used to do.
"Yes, that is what he says; and I'm beginning to think that he is right."
"Certainly he is." Dick admitted that two people in the world could do and say
no wrong. Kami was the man.
"And now you say the same thing. It's so disheartening."
"I'm sorry, but you asked me to speak the truth. Besides, I love you too much
to pretend about your work. It's strong, it's patient sometimes,--not always,--
and sometimes there's power in it, but there's no special reason why it should
be done at all. At least, that's how it strikes me."
"There's no special reason why anything in the world should ever be done. You
know that as well as I do. I only want success."
"You're going the wrong way to get it, then. Hasn't Kami ever told you so?"
"Don't quote Kami to me. I want to know what you think. My work's bad, to begin
with."
"I didn't say that, and I don't think it."
"It's amateurish, then."
"That it most certainly is not. You're a work-woman, darling, to your boot-
heels, and I respect you for that."
"You don't laugh at me behind my back?"
"No, dear. You see, you are more to me than any one else. Put this cloak thing
round you, or you'll get chilled.


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