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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"Burning Daylight"

" The muscles of his legs tensed
involuntarily as if he were about to lead her to the door. "My
auto's waiting outside. There's nothing to delay excepting
getting on your hat."
He bent over her. "I reckon it's allowable," he said, as he
kissed her.
It was a long embrace, and she was the first to speak.
"You haven't answered my questions. How is this possible? How
can you leave your business? Has anything happened?"
"No, nothing's happened yet, but it's going to, blame quick.
I've taken your preaching to heart, and I've come to the penitent
form. You are my Lord God, and I'm sure going to serve you. The
rest can go to thunder. You were sure right. I've been the
slave to my money, and since I can't serve two masters I'm
letting the money slide. I'd sooner have you than all the money
in the world, that's all." Again he held her closely in his
arms. "And I've sure got you, Dede. I've sure got you.
"And I want to tell you a few more. I've taken my last drink.
You're marrying a whiskey-soak, but your husband won't be that.
He's going to grow into another man so quick you won't know him.
A couple of months from now, up there in Glen Ellen, you'll wake
up some morning and find you've got a perfect stranger in the
house with you, and you'll have to get introduced to him all over
again.


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