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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Call of the Canyon"

"
"Carley, you will realize their insufficiency too late," he replied,
earnestly. "The things you were born to are love, work, children,
happiness."
"Don't! don't! . . . they are hollow mockery for me," she cried,
passionately. "Glenn, it is the end. It must come--quickly. . . . You are
free."
"I do not ask to be free. Wait. Go home and look at it again with different
eyes. Think things over. Remember what came to me out of the West. I will
always love you--and I will be here--hoping--"
"I--I cannot listen," she returned, brokenly, and she clenched her hands
tightly to keep from wringing them. "I--I cannot face you. . . . Here
is--your ring. . . . You--are--free. . . . Don't stop me--don't come. . . .
Oh, Glenn, good-by!"
With breaking heart she whirled away from him and hurried down the slope
toward the trail. The shade of the forest enveloped her. Peering back
through the trees, she saw Glenn standing where she had left him, as if
already stricken by the loneliness that must be his lot. A sob broke from
Carley's throat. She hated herself. She was in a terrible state of
conflict. Decision had been wrenched from her, but she sensed unending
strife. She dared not look back again.


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