Rose O'Paradise
“Swear, sir?” she protested. “I didn’t swear.”

“Pardon me,” replied Singleton, laconically. “I thought I heard you say ‘damn’ several times.”

Virginia’s smile showed two rows of white teeth.

“Oh, so you did!” she laughed, rising. “But ‘damn’ isn’t swearing. You ought to hear me really swear sometimes. Shall I show you how I—I can swear?”

Singleton shook his head.

“I’d rather you wouldn’t!... Sit down again, please.”

The man at intervals turned a pair of burning bright eyes upon her. They weren’t unlike her own eyes, only their expression puzzled Virginia.

She could not understand the rapid changes in her father. He wasn’t the man she had mentally known all these years. But then, all she had had by which to visualize 16 him was an old torn picture, turned face to the wall in the garret. He didn’t look at all like the painting—he was thinner, older, and instead of the tender expression on the handsome, boyish face, time had placed one of bitterness, anxiety, and dread. He sat, crouched forward, stirring the grate fire, seemingly lost in thought. Virginia remained quiet until he was ready to speak.

16

“I’m going to die soon,—very soon.”

It was only natural that Virginia should show how his statement shocked her. She grew deathly white, and an expression of misery knit the lovely young face.

“How soon?” she shivered, drawing back.

“Perhaps to-night—perhaps not for weeks, but I must tell you something before then.”

“All right,” agreed Virginia, “all right.... I’m here.”

“I haven’t been a good father to you,” the man began after a pause, “and I’m not sure I could do better if I should stay on here with you. So I might as well go now as any time! Your mother would’ve done differently if she’d lived. You look some like her.”

“I’m sorry I don’t remember her,” remarked Virginia apologetically.

“She went away when you were too little 
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