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Wolf, Emma, 1865-1932

"Other Things Being Equal"

Her faint knock was not immediately answered,
and she called softly; receiving no reply, she turned the knob, which
yielded to her hand. Sunbeams danced merrily about the room of the young
man, who sat in their light in a dejected attitude. He evidently had made
no change in his toilet; and as Ruth stood unnoticed beside him, her eyes
wandered over his gray, unshaven face, travel-stained and weary to a
degree. She laid her hand upon his shoulder.
"Louis," she called gently.
He shook under her touch, but made no further sign that he knew of her
presence.
"You must be so tired, Louis," she continued sympathetically.
It may have been the words, it may have been the tone, it may have been
that she touched some hidden thought, for suddenly, without premonition,
his breast heaved, and he sobbed heavily as only a man can sob.
She started back in pain. That such emotion could so unstring Louis Arnold
was a marvel. It did not last long; and as he rose from his chair he spoke
in his accustomed, quiet tone.
"Forgive my unmanliness," he said; "it was kind of you to come to me."
"You look very ill, Louis; can't I bring you something to refresh you, or
will you lie down?"
"We shall see; is there anything you wish to ask me?
"Nothing.


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