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Mayo, Margaret, 1882-1951

"Polly of the Circus"

He tried to
protest, but she put a warning finger to her lips and pressed the
little brown satchel into his hand. "It's no use," she went on
hurriedly. "We might as well tell them everything now." She
turned to Douglas and pretended to laugh. "You have found us
out."
The deacons were slightly uneasy; the frown on Douglas's forehead
was deepening.
"Oh, see how serious he looks," she teased, with a toss of her
head toward the grim-visaged pastor.
"Is this some trick?" he demanded, sternly.
"Don't be angry," she pleaded. "Wish me luck."
She held out one small hand; he did not take it. She wavered,
then she felt the eyes of the deacons upon her. Courage returned
and she spoke in a firm, clear voice: "I am going to run away."
Douglas stepped before her and studied her keenly.
"Run away?" he exclaimed incredulously.
"Yes, to the circus with Jim."
"You couldn't DO such a thing," he answered, excitedly. "Why,
only a moment ago you told me you would never leave me."
"Oh, but that was a moment ago," she cried, in a strained, high
voice. "That was before Jim came. You see, I didn't know HOW I
felt until I saw Jim and heard all about my old friends, how
Barker is keeping my place for me, and how they all want to see
me.


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