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Allen, Grant, 1848-1899

"The Woman Who Did"


She drew back, all aghast. Shame and agony held her. Something of
maiden modesty burned bright in her cheek and down her very neck.
Red waves coursed through her. How on earth after this could she
face Walter Brydges?
"Mother, mother!" she broke out, sobbing, after a moment's pause,
"oh, what have you done? What have you done? A cruel, cruel
mother you have been to me. How can I ever forgive you?"
Herminia gazed at her appalled. It was a natural tragedy. There
was no way out of it. She couldn't help seizing the thing at once,
in a lightning flash of sympathy, from Dolly's point of view, too.
Quick womanly instinct made her heart bleed for her daughter's
manifest shame and horror.
"Dolly, Dolly," the agonized mother cried, flinging herself upon
her child's mercy, as it were; "Don't be hard on me; don't be hard
on me! My darling, how could I ever guess you would look at it
like this? How could I ever guess my daughter and his would see
things for herself in so different a light from the light we saw
them in?"
"You had no right to bring me into the world at all," Dolly cried,
growing fiercer as her mother grew more unhappy.


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