I want to earn
money. Lots of it. And now."
She got up and went to the window, and stood looking down
the steep green slope of the ravine that lay, a natural
amphitheater, just below.
"Money, h'm?" mused Father Fitzpatrick. "Well, it's popular
and handy. And you look to me like the kind of girl who'd
get it, once you started out for it. I've never had much
myself. They say it has a way of turning to dust and ashes
in the mouth, once you get a good, satisfying bite of it.
But that's only talk, I suppose."
Fanny laughed a little, still looking down at the ravine.
"I'm fairly accustomed to dust and ashes by this time. It
won't be a new taste to me." She whirled around suddenly.
"And speaking of dust and ashes, isn't this a shame? A
crime? Why doesn't somebody stop it? Why don't you stop
it?" She pointed to the desecrated ravine below. Her eyes
were blazing, her face all animation.
Father Fitzpatrick came over and stood beside her. His face
was sad. "It's a--" He stopped abruptly, and looked down
into her glowing face.
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