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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Half a Rogue"

"
"Richard, my boy!" Her arms pulled him downward. "I knew it when you
came in. I've prayed so long for this. God has answered my prayers.
I'm so happy. Don't you remember how you used to tell me all your
plans, the plots of your stories, the funny things that had come to
you during the day? You used to come home late, but that didn't
matter; you'd always find some pie and cheese and a glass of milk on
the kitchen table--the old kitchen table. I'm so glad!"
"It may be a month or so; for I'll have to sell some of the things.
But I'm coming home, I'm coming home." He bent swiftly and kissed her.
"Good night."


Chapter VI

Warrington was up and about at six the next morning. He had never
really outgrown the natural habit of waking at dawn, but he had fallen
upon the evil way of turning over and sleeping till half after nine.
He ate a light breakfast and went out to the stables and moved among
the stalls, talking affectionate nonsense to the horses. A man can not
talk baby-talk, that is the undisputed prerogative of the woman; but
he has a fashion of his own which serves.


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