Then, when I am dead tired I stop for a minute to rest, and
as soon as my eyes fall on a bit of green grass, or a flower growing by
the road, or the blue sky, there you are again, popping in between them
with your big eyes and your mouth that was made for kisses. I forget how
heartless and light you are, and remember only the times you've crept up
to me and put your hand on my arm and said, 'Abel, I'm sorry.' Most of
all I remember the one time you kissed me, Molly."
"Don't, Abel," she said quickly, and her voice broke and died in her
throat.
As he drew close to her, she walked faster until her steps changed into
a run.
"If you only knew me as I am, you wouldn't care so, Abel," she threw
back at him.
"I don't believe you know yourself as you are, Molly," he answered.
"It's not you that leads men on to make love to you and then throws them
over--as you have thrown me--as you will throw Mr. Mullen." His tone
grew suddenly stern. "You don't love Mr. Mullen, and you know it," he
added. "If you love any man on earth to-day, you love me."
At his first change from tenderness to accusation, her face hardened and
her voice returned to her control.
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