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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"


"Now you are lying," said Artois.
The Marchesino got up and stood in front of Artois. The ugly, cat-like
look had come into his face, changing it from its usual boyish
impudence to a hardness that suggested age. At that moment he looked
much older than he was.
"Be careful, Emilio!" he said. "I am Neapolitan, and I do not allow
myself to be insulted."
His gray eyes contracted.
"You did not mean to get lost with the Signorina?" said Artois.
"One leaves such things to destiny."
"Destiny! Well, to-night it is your destiny to go out of the
Signorina's life forever."
"How dare you command me? How dare you speak for these ladies?"
Suddenly Artois went quite white, and laid his hand on the
Marchesino's arm.
"Where have you been? What have you been doing all this time?" he
said.
Questions blazed in his eyes. His hand closed more firmly on the
Marchesino.
"Where did you take that child? What did you say to her? What did you
dare to say?"
"I! And you?" said the Marchesino, sharply.


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