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Stories of a Western Town by Octave Thanet
page 53 of 160 (33%)
Being so dark Nelson could not see the queer expression on
her face as she slowly shook her head. She was thinking:
"If I ever saw a babe in arms trying to do business!
How did HE ever pay for a farm?" She said: "Well, I did it
on purpose; I wanted you to know I wasn't a cruel aristocrat,
but a woman that had worked as hard as yourself.
Now, why shouldn't you help me and yourself instead
of helping Richards? You have confidence in me, you say.
Well, show it. I'll give you your mortgage for your mortgage
on Richards's farm. Come, can't you trust Richards to me?
You think it over."

The hiss of a rocket hurled her words into space.
The fireworks had begun. Miss Brown looked at them and watched
Nelson at the same time. As a good business woman who was also
a good citizen, having subscribed five dollars to the carnival,
she did not propose to lose the worth of her money;
neither did she intend to lose a chance to do business.
Perhaps there was an obscurer and more complex motive lurking
in some stray corner of that queer garret, a woman's mind.
Such motives--aimless softenings of the heart, unprofitable diversions
of the fancy--will seep unconsciously through the toughest
business principles of woman.

She was puzzled by the look of exaltation on Nelson's features,
illumined as they were by the uncanny light. If the fool man
had not forgotten all his troubles just to see a few fireworks!
No, he was not that kind of a fool; maybe--and she almost
laughed aloud in her pleasure over her own insight--maybe it
all made him think of the war, where he had been so brave.
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