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Maxwell, W. B., 1866-1938

"The Devil's Garden"


The shadows beneath the trees were absolutely black, impenetrable; a
dark cave under each ring of leaves. Then toward nightfall this shadow
grew lighter and lighter, until it was a transparent grayness into
which one could see quite clearly. Thus a girl and a man sitting under
a hedgerow elm five or six hundred yards away were distinct objects,
although perhaps themselves unaware that they had gradually lost their
shelter and become conspicuous.
Dale, crossing his fields and staring at these two figures, for a
moment fancied that one of them was Norah. Yet that would have been an
impossibility, because he had just left her behind him at the house;
and she could not have swum round in a great half-circle, through the
drowsy air, to confront him at a distant point where he did not expect
to see her. But the heat made one stupid and slow-witted. This man and
woman were farmer Creech's people, and they had come sauntering along
the edge of uncut grass to make lazy love to each other. Dale turned
aside to avoid disturbing them.
As he returned toward the house presently, he thought of Norah's
unwonted pallor. Poor child, the heat seemed to be trying her more
than anybody. And he thought of how wan and limp and sad she looked
early this morning, when he had again sent her out of his office and
flatly refused to let her do any more writing or tidying for him.


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