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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"Alice Adams"

Now,
good-night," he finished, stepping out upon the veranda. "You
send for me if there's anything I can do."
"Do?" Adams echoed. "There ain't anything ANYBODY can do!" And
then, as his old friend went down the path to the sidewalk, he
called after him, "You tell him I'll pay him every last cent!
Every last, dang, dirty PENNY!"
He slammed the door and went rapidly up the stairs, talking
loudly to himself. "Every dang, last, dirty penny! Thinks
EVERYBODY in this family wants to steal from him, does he?
Thinks we're ALL yellow, does he? I'll show him!" And he came
into his own room vociferating, "Every last, dang, dirty penny!"
Mrs. Adams had collapsed, and Alice had put her upon his bed,
where she lay tossing convulsively and sobbing, "Oh, POOR
Walter!" over and over, but after a time she varied the sorry
tune. "Oh, poor Alice!" she moaned, clinging to her daughter's
hand. "Oh, poor, POOR Alice to have THIS come on the night of
your dinner--just when everything seemed to be going so well--at
last--oh, poor, poor, POOR----"
"Hush!" Alice said, sharply. "Don't say 'poor Alice!' I'm all
right."
"You MUST be!" her mother cried, clutching her. "You've just GOT
to be! ONE of us has got to be all right--surely God wouldn't
mind just ONE of us being all right--that wouldn't hurt Him----"
"Hush, hush, mother! Hush!"
But Mrs.


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