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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"Good Indian"


But I don't believe I wes half as deep in love as I thought I
was. I don't want to say anything against her; I've no right,
for she's a thousand times better than I am. But she's
different. She never would understand our ways, Mother Hart, or
look at life as we do; some people go through life looking at the
little things that don't matter, and passing by the other, bigger
things. If you keep your eye glued to a microscope long enough,
you're sure to lose the sense of proportion.
"She won't speak to me," he continued after a short silence. "I
tried to talk to her yesterday--"
"But you must remember, the poor child was hysterical that day
when--she went on so. She doesn't know anything about the
realities of life. She doesn't mean to be hard."
"Yesterday," said Grant with an odd little smile, "she was not
hysterical. It seems that--shooting--was the last little weight
that tilted the scale against me. I don't think she ever cared
two whoops for me, to tell you the truth.


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