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Wright, Harold Bell, 1872-1944

"The Re-Creation of Brian Kent"

I--I--sure ain't a-foolin'
myself none, not ary bit, a-thinkin' you-all could ever git ter
likin' sich as me; but, I can't help sort of dreamin' 'bout hit an'
a-pretendin', an'--an' all the while I'm a-knowin', inside er me like,
that there ain't nobody,--not Auntie Sue, nor this here Betty Jo, nor
that there other woman, nor anybody,--what kin care for you like I'm
a-carin',--they just naturally couldn't care like me; 'cause--'cause,
you see, sir, I ain't got nobody else,--ain't no man but you ever even
been decent ter me. I sure ain't got nobody else--"
The distraught creature's sobs prevented further speech, and she dropped
down on the ground, weak and exhausted; her poor twisted body shaking
and writhing with the emotion she could not voice.
For a little while, Brian Kent himself was as helpless as Judy. He could
only stand dumbly, staring at her as she crouched at his feet. Then,
very gently, he lifted her from the ground, and tried as best he could
to comfort her. But he felt his words to be very shallow and inadequate,
even though his own voice was trembling with emotion.
"Come, Judy, dear," he said, at last, when she seemed to have in a
measure regained her self-control. "Come. You must go back to the house,
child."
Drawing away from his supporting arm, she answered, quietly: "I ain't
no child, no more, Mr.


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