Vera, the Medium by Richard Harding Davis
page 91 of 144 (63%)
page 91 of 144 (63%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
too. And whenever I try to get away from this" -- she stretched
out her hands to include the room about her -- "Someone tells! Five times, now. She leaned forward appealingly, not as though asking pity for herself, but as wishing him to see her point of view. "I didn't choose this business," she protested, "I was sort of born in it, and," she broke out loyally, "I hate to have you call it a mean business; but I can't get into any other. Whenever I have, some man says, That girl in your front office is a thief." The restraint she put upon herself, the air of disdain which at all times she had found the most convenient defense, fell from her. "It's not fair!" she cried, "it's not fair." To her mortification, the tears of self-pity sprang to her eyes, and as she fiercely tried to brush them away, to her greater anger, continued to creep down her cheeks. "It was nine years ago," she protested, "I was a child. I've been punished enough." She raised her face frankly to his, speaking swiftly, bitterly. "Of course, I want to get away!" she cried. "Of course, I want friends. I've never had a friend. I've always been alone. I'm tired, tired! I hate this business. I never know how much I hate it until the chance comes to get away -- and I can't." She stopped, but without lowering her head or moving her eyes from his. "This time," said the man quietly, "you're going to get away from it." |
|