" She tried to cross toward the dressing tent.
He stepped quickly in front of her.
"You aren't answering FRANKLY, and you aren't happy."
She was growing desperate. She felt she must get away, anywhere,
anywhere.
He seized her small wrists and forced her to look at him.
"And _I_ am not happy without YOU, and I never, NEVER can be."
The floodgates were open, his eyes were aglow, he bent toward her
eagerly.
"Oh, you mustn't," she begged. "You MUSTN'T."
"You've grown so close," he cried. "So close!" She struggled to
be free. He did not heed her. "You know--you must know what I
mean." He drew her toward him and forced her into his arms.
"You're more precious to me than all else on this earth."
For the first time he saw the extreme pallor on her face. He
felt her growing limp and lifeless in his arms. A doubt crossed
his mind. "If I am wrong in thinking you feel as I do, if you
honestly care for all this," he glanced about at the tents, "more
than for any life that I can give you, I shan't interfere.
You'll be going on your way in an hour. I'll say good-bye and
God bless you; but if you do care for me, Polly," he was pleading
now, "if you're NOT happy here-- won't you come back to me? Won't
you, Polly?"
She dared not meet his eyes, nor yet to send him away.
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