Starbuck is our host, and
that his daughter, while one of the most lovable of little girls--"
"Ah, you are leaving off your romance and are coming down to
level-headedness. Yes, she is lovable and as sweet as a wild strawberry,
and I have fought against this thing until I am tired of it. But what
are you trying to get at?"
"She is not of your world, Tom."
"Oh, world be blowed. I've got no world--never had one."
"Well, then, your set, your--"
"Damn my set, if I've got one. I wouldn't give her for all the sets in
the world. You can see that--you must have seen it all along."
"Then you are in earnest?" she asked, putting her arm about him.
"In earnest? You might just as well ask a dying man if he means it."
"That's all I want to know, my boy--I want to know that you are true."
"You are all right, auntie," he said, kissing her.
"It is simply a question of love, Tom. And that should come before
everything. Go and find her."
"Yes, if I have to track her with the hounds," he replied, hastening
away; and she stood looking after him, with a new light in her eye.
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