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King, Basil, 1859-1928

"The Wild Olive"

"
"She meant well--"
"Oh, every failure, and bungler, and mischief-maker means well. That's
their charter. I'm not concerned with that. I'm speaking of what she did.
She fixed it in your mind that you were like a sapling sprung from a seed
blown outside the orchard. You think you can minimize that accident by
bringing forth as good as any to be found within the pale. Consequently
you've taken a poor, helpless, blind man off the hands of the people whose
duty it is to look after him--and who are well able to do it--"
"That isn't the reason," she declared, flushing. "If Mr. Wayne and I live
together it's because we're used to each other--and in a way he has taken
the place of my father."
"Oh, come now! That's all very fine. But haven't you got in the back of
your mind the thought that the wild tree that's known by its good fruit is
the one that's best worth grafting?"
"If I had--" she began, with color deepening.
"If you had, you'd simply be taking a long way round, when there's a short
cut home. I'm the orchard, Miriam. All you've got to do is to walk into
it--with me."
A warmer tone came into his voice as he uttered the concluding words,
adding to her discomfort.


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