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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"A Ward of the Golden Gate"

"I am
certain it is the same: it was unique, like this. Odd, isn't it?"
Everybody said it WAS odd, and looked upon the occurrence with that
unreasoning satisfaction with which average humanity receives the
most trivial and unmeaning coincidences. It was left to Don Caesar
to give it a gallant application.
"I have not-a the pleasure of knowing-a the Miss Minnie, but the
jewelry, when she arrives, to the throat-a of Miss Yerba, she has
not lost the value--the beauty--the charm."
"No," said Woods, cheerily. "The fact is, Baker, you were too
slow. Miss Yerba's folks gobbled up the necklace while you were
thinking. You were a new-comer. Old 'forty-niners' did not
hesitate over a thing they wanted."
"You never knew who was your successful rival, eh?" said Dona Anna,
turning to Judge Baker with a curious glance at Paul's pale face in
passing.
"No," said Baker, "but"--he stopped with a hesitating laugh and
some little confusion. "No, I've mixed it up with something else.
It's so long ago. I never knew, or if I did I've forgotten. But
the necklace I remember." He handed it back to Yerba with a bow,
and the incident ended.
Paul had not looked at Yerba during this conversation, an
unreasoning instinct that he might confuse her, an equally
unreasoning dread that he might see her confused by others,
possessing him.


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