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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Riders of the Purple Sage"

Will you believe me?"
"Believe you! I couldn't do else."
"Then listen!...Saving you, I saved myself. Living here in this
valley with you, I've found myself. I've learned to think while I
was dreaming. I never troubled myself about God. But God, or some
wonderful spirit, has whispered to me here. I absolutely deny the
truth of what you say about yourself. I can't explain it. There
are things too deep to tell. Whatever the terrible wrongs you've
suffered, God holds you blameless. I see that--feel that in you
every moment you are near me. I've a mother and a sister 'way
back in Illinois. If I could I'd take you to them--to-morrow."
"If it were true! Oh, I might--I might lift my head!" she cried.
"Lift it then--you child. For I swear it's true."
She did lift her head with the singular wild grace always a part
of her actions, with that old unconscious intimation of innocence
which always tortured Venters, but now with something more--a
spirit rising from the depths that linked itself to his brave
words.
"I've been thinking--too," she cried, with quivering smile and
swelling breast. "I've discovered myself--too. I'm young--I'm
alive--I'm so full--oh! I'm a woman!"
"Bess, I believe I can claim credit of that last
discovery--before you," Venters said, and laughed.
"Oh, there's more--there's something I must tell you."
"Tell it, then."
"When will you go to Cottonwoods?"
"As soon as the storms are past, or the worst of them.


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