A woman came out of the house, and in
passing saw and recognized me. It was Mrs. Bliven. She dropped down on
the bench.
"My God!" she sobbed. "I'll go crazy! I'll kill myself!"
I sat down again on the bench. She had been so happy a few minutes ago,
to all appearances, that I was astonished; but after waiting quite a
while I could think of nothing to say to her. So I turned my face away
for fear that she might see what I felt must show in it.
"You're in trouble, too," she said. "You babies! My God, how I'd like to
change places with you! Did you see him kissing them?"
"Who?" I asked.
"My man," she cried. "Bliven. You know how it is, with us. You're the
only one that knows about me--about us--Jake. I've been scared to death
for fear you'd tell ever since I found you were coming here to live; and
I dasn't tell him--he don't know you know. And now I almost wish you
would tell--put it in Dick McGill's paper. He wants somebody else
already. A woman that's done as I have--he can throw me away like an old
shoe! But I want you to promise me that if he ever shelves me you'll let
the world know. Did you see him hugging them girls? He's getting ready
to shelve me, I tell you!"
I sat for some time thinking this matter over. Finally I spoke, and she
seemed surprised, as if she had forgotten I was there.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said I. "I won't tell on you just because
you think you want me to. What would happen if everything in the lives
of us folks out here was to be told, especially as it would be told in
Dick McGill's paper? But if you ever find out for sure that he is going
to--going to--to shelve you, why, come to me, and I'll go to him.
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