Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/225

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THE FRENZY OF EVELYN

"No, no! No, I must live. That is the only way! Don't be afraid. I won't kill myself. I daren't." So, she stands trembling and sorry, like a whipped child, among us three brutes waiting for more whipping. If there is one moment in my life of which I am more ashamed than another, that's the one.

Dave spoke at last, but it was still like a young brute.

"I don't know who is the cause of this. But it is certain that you, Evelyn, through your passions, have your share in it. Therefore, you have got to do your share of the suffering."

"Yes," whispers Evelyn, "I shall do my full share of the suffering. I am willing. Ready. And my share is laid out! I know it now! May I go—daddy—Jon—Dave, and begin it? I can't stand much more!"

But Dave says, more quiet now:

"No. This is the wrong time to let you go, Evelyn, or you us. It's my opinion that we've got to hang together or we'll hang separately—as Benjamin Franklin said." He was all

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