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Stribling, T. S., 1881-1965

"Birthright A Novel"


She looked at him with a queer expression.
"I found out when you kissed me under the arbor. It was too late then."
She stood erect, with dismissal very clearly written in her attitude.
Peter walked out of the room.


CHAPTER VIII

With a certain feeling of clumsiness Peter groped in the dark hall for
his hat, then, as quietly as he could, let himself out at the door.
Outside he was surprised to find that daylight still lingered in the
sky. He thought night had fallen. The sun lay behind the Big Hill, but
its red rays pouring down through the boles of the cedars tinted long
delicate avenues in the dusty atmosphere above his head. A sharp chill
in the air presaged frost for the night. Somewhere in the crescent a boy
yodeled for his dog at about half-minute intervals, with the persistence
of children.
Peter walked a little distance, but finally came to a stand in the dust,
looking at the negro cabins, not knowing where to go or what to do.
Cissie's confession had destroyed all his plans. It had left him as
adynamic as had his mother's death.


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