Explore "The Stove" by Marjorie Pickthall on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"I'll be back the third day at latest with the doctor. I've left you wood enough for three days and more and you've grub for a month. " Garth looked at her anxiously; his strong mouth twitched. Suddenly he leaned forward and brushed her cheek lightly with his yellow beard. "I-hate to leave you, little girl," he said, with a gentleness not common with him, "but I guess it's Derek's only chance."
"Of course you must go. It's Derek's only chance. " Dorette faced him steadily. She was pale, slight, sleepy-eyed, but wilderness born and bred, for all that; one guessed a spirit of steel in that fragile sheath. She finished wistfully: "There'll be nothing for me to do-nothing, but-wait."