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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"The Untamed"

"
"Maybe."
"About women?"
"Ah!" said Calder.
"Bronchos is cut out chiefly after one pattern," went on Dan.
"They's chiefly jest meanness. Are women the same--jest cut after one
pattern?"
"What pattern, Dan?"
"The pattern of Delilah! They ain't no trust to be put in 'em?"
"A good many of us have found that out."
"I thought one woman was different from the rest."
"We all think that. Woman in particular is divine; woman in general
is--hell!"
"Ay, but this one--" He stopped and set his teeth.
"What has she done?"
"She--" he hesitated, and when he spoke again his voice did not
tremble; there was a deep hurt and wonder in it: "She double-crossed
me!"
"When? Do you mean to say you've met a woman tonight out here among
the willows?--Where--how----"
"Tex----!"
"Ay, Dan."
"It's--it's hell!"
"It is now. But you'll forget her! The mountains, the desert, and
above all, time--they'll cure you, my boy."
"Not in a whole century, Tex."
Calder waited curiously for the explanation. It came.
"Jest to think of her is like hearing music. Oh, God, Tex, what c'n I
do to fight agin this here cold feelin' at my heart?"
Dan slipped down beside the marshal and the latter dropped a
sympathetic hand over the lean, brown fingers.


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