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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"


"I don't believe I could endure another great sorrow," she said to
herself. "I'm sure I couldn't."
Just then Vere came in to bid her good-night.
"Good-night, Vere," Hermione said.
She kissed the girl gently on the forehead, and the touch of the cool
skin suddenly made her long to sob, and to say many things. She took
her lips away.
"Emile has been here," she said.
"Monsieur Emile!"
Vere looked round.
"But--"
"He has gone."
"Gone! But I haven't seen him!"
Her voice seemed thoroughly surprised.
"He only stayed five minutes or so."
"Oh, Madre, I wish I had known!"
There was a touch of reproach in Vere's tone, and there was something
so transparently natural, so transparently innocent and girlish in her
disappointment, that it told her mother something she was glad to
know. Not that she had doubted it--but she was glad to know.
"We came to look for you."
"Well, but I was only on the cliff, where I always go. I was there
having a little talk with Ruffo.


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