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Kemp, Harry, 1883-1960

"Tramping on Life An Autobiographical Narrative"


She staggered into the open, swept us with a blazing glance as if we had
done something to her, and hurried on down the path toward the little
house where Penton had written in quiet till she had strangely routed
him out and taken its occupancy for herself.
"Hildreth!" I leaped to my feet, starting after her, "Hildreth what's
the matter?"
I had put all thought of narrative poetry out of my head.
"Don't follow her," advised Ruth, in a low, controlled voice, "it's best
to let her alone when she acts like that ... she'll have it out, and
come back, smiling, in an hour or so."
I plunged on. Ruth ran after me, catching me by the shoulder from
behind.
"Listen to me. Take my advice and keep out of this--Johnnie!" she called
my name with a tender drop in her voice.
If it had not been for her tell-tale pronouncement of my name I might
have listened to her ... but that made me angry, and it ran through my
mind how she and Penton had fatuously arranged my marrying her....
I ran after Hildreth. She slammed the door when I was so close upon her
that the wind of its shutting went against my face like a blow.
I found myself on my knees by the door.
"Let me in," I said through the key-hole, for the door was locked; she
had thrown the bolt on the inside.
"Go away, Johnnie, I want to be alone."
"Hildreth, dearest woman, do let me in.


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