She didn't mind if he was a river-man--they could be
friends, for clearly he was such an exception. Tom should be
cordial to him. Betty stared before her, intently watching the
river. As she looked, suddenly pale points of light appeared on
a distant headland.
"Is that New Madrid?--Oh, is it, Mr. Carrington?"' she cried
eagerly.
"I reckon so," but he did not alter his position.
"But you're not looking!"
"Yes, I am--I'm looking at you. I reckon you'll think me crazy,
Miss Malroy-presumptuous and all that but I wish Memphis could be
wiped off the map and that we could go on like this for ever!
--no, not like this but together--you and I" he took a deep breath.
Betty drew a little farther away, and looked at him
reproachfully; and then she turned to the dancing lights far down
the river. Finally she said slowly:
"I thought you were--different."
"I'm not," and Carrington's hand covered hers.
"Oh--you mustn't kiss my hand like that--"
"Dear--I'm just a man--and you didn't expect, did you, that I
could see you this way day after day and not come to love you?"
He rested his arm across the back of her chair and leaned toward
her.
"No--no--" and Betty moved still farther away.
"Give me a chance to win your love, Betty!"
"You mustn't talk so--I am nothing to you--"
"Yes, you are. You're everything to me," said Carrington
doggedly.
"I'm not--I won't be!" and Betty stamped her foot.
"You can't help it. I love you and that's all there is about it.
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