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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"

"
"Are you?"
"Yes."
"Naples again? I'm tired of Naples."
There was in her voice a sound that suggested rather hatred than
lassitude.
"I don't know that I shall go as far as Naples. I am going to
Mergellina."
"Oh!"
Vere did not ask her what she was going to do there. She showed no
special interest, no curiosity.
"What will you do, Vere?"
"I don't know."
She glanced round. Hermione saw that her usually bright eyes were dull
and lack-lustre.
"I don't know what I shall do."
She sighed and began to eat her egg slowly, as if she had no appetite.
"Did you sleep well, Vere?"
"Not very well, Madre."
"Are you tired of the island?"
Vere looked up as if startled.
"Oh no! at least"--she paused--"No, I don't believe I could ever be
really that. I love the island."
"What is it, then?"
"Sometimes--some days one doesn't know exactly what to do."
"Well, but you always seem occupied." Hermione spoke with slow
meaning, not unkindly, but with a significance she hardly meant to put
into her voice, yet could not keep out of it.


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