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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"


"DEAR MONSIEUR EMILE,--Please come to the island /at once/.
Something terrible has happened. I don't know what it is. But
Madre is-- No, I can't put it. Oh, /do come/--please--please come!
VERE
"Come the /quickest/ way."

"Something terrible has happened." He knew at once what it was. The
walls of the cell in which he had enclosed his friend had crumbled
away. The spirit which for so long had rested upon a lie had been torn
from its repose, had been scourged to its feet to face the fierce
light of truth. How would it face the truth?
"But Madre is-- No, I can't put it."
That phrase struck a chill almost of horror to his soul. He stared at
it for a moment trying to imagine--things. Then he tore the note up.
The quickest way to the island!
"I shall not be in to dinner to-night."
He was speaking to the waiter at the door of the Egyptian Room. A
minute later he was in the Via Chiatamone at the back of the hotel
waiting for the tram. He must go by Posilipo to the Trattoria del
Giardinetto, walk down to the village below, and take a boat from
there to the island.


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