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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"The Patrician"

He muttered hoarsely: "By God, I
was mad!" and stood glowering in sullen suspense between hardihood and
fear. He heard her say, quietly:
"Yes, you were-rather."
Then seeing her put her hand up to her lips as if he had hurt them, he
muttered brokenly:
"Forgive me, Babs!"
There was a full minute's silence while he stood there, no longer
daring to look at her, beaten all over by his emotions. Then, with
bewilderment, he heard her say:
"I didn't mind it--for once!"
He looked up at that. How could she love him, and speak so coolly! How
could she not mind, if she did not love him! She was passing her hands
over her face and neck and hair, repairing the damage of his kisses.
"Now shall we go in?" she said.
Harbinger took a step forward.
"I love you so," he said; "I will put my life in your hands, and you
shall throw it away."
At those words, of whose exact nature he had very little knowledge, he
saw her smile.
"If I let you come within three yards, will you be good?"
He bowed; and, in silence, they walked towards the house.
Dinner that evening was a strange, uncomfortable meal. But its comedy,
too subtly played for Miltoun and Lord Dennis, seemed transparent to the
eyes of Lady Casterley; for, when Harbinger had sallied forth to ride
back along the sands, she took her candle and invited Barbara to retire.


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