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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"

"
He repeated them as he gazed at the blackness above Ischia.
"Monsieur Emile!"
"Vere!"
The girl came towards him, a white contrast to what he had been
watching.
"I'm all ready. It seems so strange to be going out to a sort of party.
I've had such a bother with my hair."
"You have conquered," he said. "Undine has disappeared."
"What?"
"Come quite close to the lamp."
She came obediently.
"Vere transformed!" he said. "I have seen three Veres to-day already.
How many more will greet me to-night?"
She laughed gently, standing quite still. Her dress and her gloves were
white, but she had on a small black hat, very French, and at the back
of her hair there was a broad black ribbon tied in a big bow. This
ribbon marked her exact age clearly, he thought.
"This is a new frock, and my very smartest," she said; "and you dared
to abuse Paris!"
"Being a man. I must retract now. You are right, we cannot do without
it. But--have you an umbrella?"
"An umbrella?"
She moved and laughed again, much more gayly.


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