|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Betty Zane by Zane Grey: she had been running her fingers through the fair hair that lay so damp over
his brow. Her pity and tenderness had carried her far beyond herself, and at
the last words she bent her head and kissed him on the lips.
"Who are you? You are not my mother. She is dead," he cried, starting up
wildly, and looking at her with brilliant eyes.
Betty dropped the fan and rose quickly to her feet. What had she done? A
terrible thought had flashed into her mind. Suppose he were not delirious, and
had been deceiving her. Oh! for a hiding-place, or that the floor would
swallow her. Oh! if some one would only come.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Betty ran to the door. To her great relief
Mrs. Martin was coming up.
Betty Zane | 
