"But you know somethin' about love, don't you? Putty much the same
thing."
"How dare you talk to--"
"Now, don't be fretted. I've got my own way of gittin' at a p'int. I'm a
thorn bush by the road-side. The sheep comes along an' I pick off some
of their wool. An' towards me there comes an old sheep, with his eyes
shet, a shakin' of his head. An' he'll lose all his wool. But you could
turn him aside."
"I don't know what you mean, sir."
"Starbuck is the old sheep. You'd better help turn him aside. A word
from you'll do it. I told him I wanted to borry a thousand dollars.
He'll understand. You tell him to lend it to me."
"I will do nothing of the sort, you--"
"If you don't, you'll be sorry. Jest now I spoke to you about love. It
wan't an accident. No. An' if he don't let me have the money, Jim the
preacher may be ashamed to preach ag'in. An' he won't talk no mo'
honeysuckle to you, nuther. He will disappear, an' yo' heart may grieve,
but yo' jedgment will be glad."
"You infamous scoundrel."
He bowed to her.
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