He would need a
little--just a thousand or two to start with and then the rest
would come easily, for he knew how to make money. And how liberal
that would be.
He could see himself as he would go forth with Rose, leaving
behind the woman he had never loved and all that he had toiled so
many years to amass. It seemed fair--the property for which he
had lusted so mercilessly left for the woman with whom he had
lived so dully, left as the ransom to be paid for his liberty. So
he and his Rose of Sharon would walk away--walk, because even the
car would be surrendered--and he would be free with the only
woman for whom he had ever yearned.
Would she be happy for long? His pride answered "yes," but
against his will he pictured himself being dumped ruthlessly into
the pitiless sixties while Rose still lingered in the glorious
twenties. This was a most unpleasant reflection and Martin
preferred to dismiss it. That belonged to tomorrow. He would wait
until then to fight tomorrow's battles. His mind came back to the
property again. Wasn't it rather impetuous to surrender all?
Wouldn't it be unfair to Rose to be so generous to his wife? She
had Bill. In a few years he would be old enough to run the farm.
Until then, with his help and good hired hands, she could do it
herself. Why not leave it and the goods on it to her and take the
mortgages and bonds with him? Rose was joy.
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