"
"I'm not going to be," Ramsey said, quietly.
"By George!" And now Fred halted in front of him, both being huskily
solemn. "I think I understand a little of what that means to you, old
Ramsey; I think I do. I think I know something of what it costs you to
make that resolution for your country's sake." Impulsively he extended
his hand. "It's a pretty big thing for you to do. Will you shake hands?"
But Ramsey shook his head. "I didn't do it. I wouldn't ever have done
anything just on account of her talkin' that way. She shut the door on
me--it was a good while ago."
"She did! What for?"
"Well, I'm not much of a talker, you know, Fred," said Ramsey, staring
at the pen he played with. "I'm not much of anything, for that matter,
prob'ly, but I--well--I--"
"You what?"
"Well, I had to tell her I didn't feel about things the way she did.
She'd thought I had, all along, I guess. Anyway, it made her hate me
or something, I guess; and she called it all off. I expect there wasn't
much to call off, so far as she was concerned, anyhow.
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