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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Victim A romance of the Real Jefferson Davis"


"I'll not lose her! I'll wring that viper's neck--I'll wade through
blood and death and the fires of h--"
Just as he was plunging waist deep through the flames of the Pit, she
appeared in the door, the picture of wistful, tender beauty.
He rose awkwardly and extended his hand.
"Good morning, Dick!"
"Good morning, Jennie--"
Her hand was hot, her eyes heavy with tears.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"As if you didn't know--I've been saying good-by to some of the dearest
friends I've ever known. It's terrible. I just feel it's the end of the
world--"
He started to say: "Don't worry, Jennie darling, you have me. I love
you!" The thought of it made the cold beads of perspiration suddenly
stand out on his forehead. It was one thing to think such
things--another to say it aloud to a girl with Jennie's serious brown
eyes.
She seemed terribly serious this morning and far away somehow. Never had
he seen her so utterly lovely. The mood of tender seriousness made her
more beautiful than ever. If he only dared to crush her in his arms and
laugh the smiles back into her eyes.
When he spoke it was only a commonplace he managed to blurt out:
"So you're really going to-morrow?"
"Yes--we've telegraphed the boys to come home from school at once and
join us in Montgomery.


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