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Cather, Willa Sibert, 1873-1947

"My Antonia"

The lines
outside the Shimerdas' house was full of washing, though it was the middle
of the week. As we got nearer, I saw a sight that made my heart sink--all
those underclothes we'd put so much work on, out there swinging in the
wind. Yulka came bringing a dishpanful of wrung clothes, but she darted
back into the house like she was loath to see us. When I went in, Antonia
was standing over the tubs, just finishing up a big washing. Mrs. Shimerda
was going about her work, talking and scolding to herself. She didn't so
much as raise her eyes. Tony wiped her hand on her apron and held it out
to me, looking at me steady but mournful. When I took her in my arms she
drew away. "Don't, Mrs. Steavens," she says, "you'll make me cry, and I
don't want to."
`I whispered and asked her to come out-of-doors with me. I knew she
couldn't talk free before her mother. She went out with me, bareheaded,
and we walked up toward the garden.
`"I'm not married, Mrs. Steavens," she says to me very quiet and
natural-like, "and I ought to be."
`"Oh, my child," says I, "what's happened to you? Don't be afraid to tell
me!"
`She sat down on the drawside, out of sight of the house. "He's run away
from me," she said. "I don't know if he ever meant to marry me."
`"You mean he's thrown up his job and quit the country?" says I.


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