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“You care that much for me, Valancy?” said Barney incredulously,
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looking away from the star and into her eyes—her strange, mysterious
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eyes.
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“I care—that much,” said Valancy in a low voice. She was trembling. He
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had called her by her name for the first time. It was sweeter than
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another man’s caress could have been just to hear him say her name like
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that.
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“If we are going to get married,” said Barney, speaking suddenly in a
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casual, matter-of-fact voice, “some things must be understood.”
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“Everything must be understood,” said Valancy.
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“I have things I want to hide,” said Barney coolly. “You are not to ask
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me about them.”
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“I won’t,” said Valancy.
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“You must never ask to see my mail.”
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“Never.”
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“And we are never to pretend anything to each other.”
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“We won’t,” said Valancy. “You won’t even have to pretend you like me.
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If you marry me I know you’re only doing it out of pity.”
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“And we’ll never tell a lie to each other about anything—a big lie or a
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petty lie.”
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“Especially a petty lie,” agreed Valancy.
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“And you’ll have to live back on my island. I won’t live anywhere
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else.”
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“That’s partly why I want to marry you,” said Valancy.
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Barney peered at her.
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“I believe you mean it. Well—let’s get married, then.”
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“Thank you,” said Valancy, with a sudden return of primness. She would
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have been much less embarrassed if he had refused her.
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“I suppose I haven’t any right to make conditions. But I’m going to
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make one. You are never to refer to my heart or my liability to sudden
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death. You are never to urge me to be careful. You are to
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forget—absolutely forget—that I’m not perfectly healthy. I have written
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a letter to my mother—here it is—you are to keep it. I have explained
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everything in it. If I drop dead suddenly—as I likely will do——”
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“It will exonerate me in the eyes of your kindred from the suspicion of
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having poisoned you,” said Barney with a grin.
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“Exactly.” Valancy laughed gaily. “Dear me, I’m glad this is over. It
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has been—a bit of an ordeal. You see, I’m not in the habit of going
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about asking men to marry me. It is so nice of you not to refuse me—or
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offer to be a brother!”
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“I’ll go to the Port tomorrow and get a license. We can be married
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tomorrow evening. Dr. Stalling, I suppose?”
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“Heavens, no.” Valancy shuddered. “Besides, he wouldn’t do it. He’d
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shake his forefinger at me and I’d jilt you at the altar. No, I want my
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old Mr. Towers to marry me.”
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“Will you marry me as I stand?” demanded Barney. A passing car, full of
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tourists, honked loudly—it seemed derisively. Valancy looked at him.
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Blue homespun shirt, nondescript hat, muddy overalls. Unshaved!
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“Yes,” she said.
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Barney put his hands over the gate and took her little, cold ones
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gently in his.
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“Valancy,” he said, trying to speak lightly, “of course I’m not in love
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with you—never thought of such a thing as being in love. But, do you
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know, I’ve always thought you were a bit of a dear.”
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CHAPTER XXVI
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The next day passed for Valancy like a dream. She could not make
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herself or anything she did seem real. She saw nothing of Barney,
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though she expected he must go rattling past on his way to the Port for
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a license.
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Perhaps he had changed his mind.
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But at dusk the lights of Lady Jane suddenly swooped over the crest of
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the wooded hill beyond the lane. Valancy was waiting at the gate for
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her bridegroom. She wore her green dress and her green hat because she
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had nothing else to wear. She did not look or feel at all
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bride-like—she really looked like a wild elf strayed out of the
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greenwood. But that did not matter. Nothing at all mattered except that
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Barney was coming for her.
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