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Raine, William MacLeod, 1871-1954

"Bucky O'Connor"

' Not
being given to many ideas, I paid a heap of respect to that one."
"Well, it's too bad, for I probably needed that whipping, and now
you'll never be able to give it to me."
"I shan't ever want to now."
Saucily her merry eyes shot him from under the long lashes. "I'm
not so sure of that. Girls can be mighty aggravating."
"That's the way girls are meant to be, I expect," he laughed.
"But fifteen-year-old boys have to be herded back into line.
There's a difference."
She rescued her hands from him and led the way to a bench that
served for a seat. "Sit down here, sir. There are one or two
things that I have to explain." She sat down beside him at the
farther end of the bench.
"This light is so dim, I can't see you away over there," he
pleaded, moving closer.
"You don't need to see me. You can hear me, can't you?"
"I reckon."
She seemed to find a difficulty in beginning, even though the
darkness helped her by making it impossible for him to see her
embarrassment. Presently he chuckled softly. "No, ma'am, I can't
even hear you. If you're talking, I'll have to come closer."
"If you do, I'll get up.


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