Beth Norvell: A Romance of the WestParrish, Randall
General
Beth Norvell: A Romance of the West
Parrish, Randall
Western stories; Women pioneers -- Fiction
"Oh, no; you greatly mistake, or else wilfully misconstrue. I am not
unconcerned, yet there is a very wide difference, I am sure. This girl
is at the Gayety from deliberate choice; she as much as told me so.
She is in love with that sort of life. Probably she has never known
anything better, while I am merely fighting out a bit of hard luck,
and, within two weeks, at the longest, shall again be free. Surely,
you cannot hint that we stand upon the same level."
"God forbid!" fervently. "Yet just as sincerely I wish you did not
deem it necessary to remain for even that brief length of time. It is
a shock to me to realize your intimate association with such depraved
characters. You are surely aware that my purse remains at your
disposal, if you will only cut the whole thing."
She lifted her eyes reproachfully to his face.
"Yes, I know; and possibly you are justified according to your code for
feeling in that way. But I do not believe I am becoming in the least
contaminated by evil associations, nor do I feel any lowering of moral
ideals. I am doing what I imagine to be right under the circumstances,
and have already given you my final decision, as well as my reason for
it. You say 'such depraved characters.' Can you refer to this
Mercedes? Strange as it may seem, I confess feeling an interest in
this beautiful Mexican girl. What is it you know regarding her?"
The young man impulsively started to speak, but as instantly paused.
An instinctive dread of uttering those plain words he would much prefer
she should never hear served to soften his language.
"There is not a great deal of reserve about the Gayety," he explained
lightly, "and indiscriminate gossip is a part of its advertising
equipment. As to Senorita Mercedes, my only informant is common rumor
out in front. That connects her name quite familiarly with one of the
proprietors of the gambling rooms."
"You have no reason to know this?"
"None whatever. As I say, it has come to me in the form of common
rumor. The man referred to is the special faro expert, a fellow named
Farnham."
Miss Norvell started violently, her fingers clutching his arm as if to
keep her body from falling, her face grown suddenly white.
"Farnham, did you say? What--what Farnham?"
"I believe I have heard him familiarly spoken of as 'Biff.'"
"Here? Here in San Juan? 'Biff' Farnham here?" The startled words
appeared to stick in the swelling white throat, and she stood staring
at him, her slender figure swaying as though he had struck her a
physical blow. "Oh, I never knew that!"
Winston, shocked and surprised by this unexpected outburst, did not
speak, his face slowly hardening to the dim suspicion thus suddenly
aroused by her agitation and her impetuous exclamation. She must have
taken instant warning from the expression of his eyes, for, with an
effort, she faced him in regained calmness, a slight tremor in her low
voice alone betraying the lack of complete self-control.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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