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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Riders of the Purple Sage"

"
He bowed and passed on. Jane resumed her walk with conflicting
thoughts. She resented Elder Tull's cold, impassive manner that
looked down upon her as one who had incurred his just
displeasure. Otherwise he would have been the same calm,
dark-browed, impenetrable man she had known for ten years. In
fact, except when he had revealed his passion in the matter of
the seizing of Venters, she had never dreamed he could be other
than the grave, reproving preacher. He stood out now a strange,
secretive man. She would have thought better of him if he had
picked up the threads of their quarrel where they had parted. Was
Tull what he appeared to be? The question flung itself in-
voluntarily over Jane Withersteen's inhibitive habit of faith
without question. And she refused to answer it. Tull could not
fight in the open Venters had said, Lassiter had said, that her
Elder shirked fight and worked in the dark. Just now in this
meeting Tull had ignored the fact that he had sued, exhorted,
demanded that she marry him. He made no mention of Venters. His
manner was that of the minister who had been outraged, but who
overlooked the frailties of a woman. Beyond question he seemed
unutterably aloof from all knowledge of pressure being brought to
bear upon her, absolutely guiltless of any connection with secret
power over riders, with night journeys, with rustlers and
stampedes of cattle.


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