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Idle Hour Stories by Eugenia Dunlap Potts
page 60 of 204 (29%)


"But surely you do not realize, Robert Garrett, that when you foreclose
this mortgage you leave us virtually penniless;" and the large dark eyes
of the suppliant were blinded by an agony of tears.

"Really, madam, I regret to seem hard;" and the polished courtesy of the
cold, harsh voice fell with heavy weight upon her strained senses. "Your
husband has had more time now than any law allows, human or divine."

"Oh, how gladly he would have paid the debt;" she moaned; "it was his
kindness and forbearance to others--kindness that seemed imperative. He
could not take the law against his crippled brother, his mother's dying
legacy to him. You know all this--you know, too, that if you will only
grant a little longer respite he can settle the claim, or the greater
part of it. How then can you be so cruel as to drive us out of doors!
You who need nothing of this world's goods!"

The man of business stirred a little, crossed his well-clad legs in
still greater comfort, and audibly repressed a yawn. Then as if
unwillingly forced to say something he did it as ungraciously as
possible.

"Again I say I grieve to proceed to harsh measures, but"--then as she
was about to interpose he broke out irritably, "God bless my soul, Mrs.
Blaine, how can you expect anything else! I am obliged to be accurate in
my matters, otherwise there would be no end to imposition from shiftless
men who are always going to pay but----never do."

"This, then, is your ultimatum, sir? You will turn me and my children
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