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Richmond, Grace S. (Grace Smith), 1866-1959

"Mrs. Red Pepper"


"Not _much_! Let every tub stand on its own bottom! Either I do the
job or I don't do it; but I don't take the part of an apprentice. I'll
agree to play second fiddle to you, with you playing first. But I'll
be--condemned--if I'll play first, with a coach at my elbow. Take that
and be hanged to you!"
He walked over to the open window, threw back the screen and put his
head out, as if he needed air to breathe. Leaver was at his side in an
instant.
"I beg your pardon, my dear fellow, I do sincerely. It was an unworthy
suggestion, and I don't blame you for resenting it. Nobody needs help
less than you. You could do the operation brilliantly. That's why there's
no need in the world to force me into the situation--no need--"
Burns wheeled. "There _is_ need! There's need for you--to save your soul
alive. You've been no coward so far--your overworked nerves played you a
trick and you've had to recover. But you have recovered, you are fit to
work again. _If you don't do this thing you'll be a coward forever!_"
It bit deep, as he had known it would. If he had struck a knife into his
friend's heart he could not have caused so sharp a hurt. Leaver turned
white under this surgery of speech, and for an instant he looked as if he
would have sprung at Burns's throat. There followed sixty silent seconds
while both men stood like statues.


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