The Dugdale Millions — page 130: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

120 THE DUGDALE MITITOYS. spired me to efforts to make myself worthy of your love are burned into my memory. My love, unre- ciprocated as it may be, is mine. That cannot be taken from me. And Ican still indulge the hope that you will see that justice to me, who have been guilty of but one wrong, and that of daring to love you, de- mands that I be given the opportunity to defend my- self against your belief in my offense.’’ He waited for her to speak, but she could not trust herself. She sat like one entranced, her whole being flooded with light, her tongue dumb. ‘“T will wait and ask again for justice,’’ he said. *fAnd I think I know you too well to believe you will deny me so small a boon.”’ She heard the gravel crushing under his feet and thought he was coming toher. But he did not come. She slowly turned. He was gone. She sprang up, with a wild yearning in her heart. She saw him slowly going from her over the soft, yielding sod. She stretched out her arms appealingly, as if she would call him back, and then, flinging herself against the hard, flinty bosom of the unsympathetic rock, she gave her heart up to a storm of sobs, heard only by the soft winds stopping to toy with her golden tresses shining in the western sun, Comiclboolkk<s C@ 3}