Oh, you would be ashamed of me in a
month.... No, no, no, I mustn't. I won't."
"But, Miss Martha--"
"No. Oh, no!"
She turned away. Galusha had what was, for him, an amazing and
unprecedented inspiration.
"Very well," he declared. "I shall go to--to the devil, I think. Yes, I
will. I shall give away my money, all of it, and go to the devil."
It was absurd enough, but the absurdity of it did not strike either of
them then.
"Oh, WON'T you go to Egypt?" she begged. "Won't you, PLEASE?"
He was firm. "No," he declared. "Not unless you go with me. Ah--ah--Miss
Martha, will you?"
She hesitated, wrung her hands--and surrendered. "Oh, I suppose I shall
have to," she said.
He did not dare believe it.
"But--but I don't want you to have to," he cried. "YOU mustn't marry me
for--for Egypt, Miss Martha. Of course, it is too much to ask; no
doubt it is quite impossible, but you--you mustn't marry me unless you
really--ah--want to."
And then a very astonishing thing happened. Martha turned to him, and
tears were in her eyes.
"Oh," she cried, breathlessly, "do you suppose there is a woman in this
world who wouldn't want to marry a man like YOU?"
After a while they discovered that it was raining. As a matter of fact,
it had been raining for some time and was now raining hard, but as
Galusha said, it didn't make a bit of difference, really.
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