"So I'm sorry. I'm heartbroken.
If it will help any, I'll even kiss the hurt to make it well--and
I'm not a kissing young man, either, let me tell you."
"I'd die before I'd let you touch me!" Her repentance, if it was
that, changed to pure rage. She snatched the torn sheet from him
and turned abruptly toward the fence. He followed her,
apparently unmoved by her attitude; placed his foot upon the
lower wire and pressed it into the soft earth, lifted the one
next above it as high as it would go, and thus made it easier for
her to pass through. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as
though tempted to reject even that slight favor, then stooped,
and went through.
As the wires snapped into place, she halted and looked back at
him.
"Maybe I've been mean--but you're been meaner," she summed up, in
self-justification. "I suppose the next thing you will do will
be to tell the boys. Well, I don't care what you do, so long as
you never speak to me again. Go and tell them if you want
to--tell.
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