Finally the operator
said: "I should think you'd be ashamed of yourself. Don't you see
there's a lady present?"
"It's my wife," said Craig. "Now take this message and get it off
at once. You should thank me for not having you dismissed."
The operator read the message. His face changed and he said in a
surlily apologetic manner: "I'll send it off right away, Mr.
Craig. Anything else?"
"That's all, my friend," said Josh. He returned to his wife's
side. She was all confusion and doubt again. Here they were back
in civilization, and her man of the woods was straightway running
amuck. What should she do? What COULD she do? WHAT had she got
herself into by marrying?
But he was speaking. "My dear," he was saying in his sharp,
insistent voice, that at once aroused and enfeebled the nerves, "I
must talk fast, as the train comes in fifteen or twenty minutes--
the train for Chicago--for Minneapolis--for Wayne--for home--OUR
home."
She started up from the seat, pale, quivering, her hands clinched
against her bosom.
"For home," he repeated, fixing her with his resolute, green-blue
eyes. "Please, sit down."
She sank to the seat. "Do you mean--" she began, but her faltering
voice could not go on.
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