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Wylie, I. A. R. (Ida Alexa Ross), 1885-1959

"The Native Born or, the Rajah's People"

I must speak to you at once, Travers,
alone."
Lois went toward the door. As she passed him she saw him look at her
for the first time. And she went her way blinded with tears that had
no cause save in the stern, unhappy face which had flashed its message
to her. For she knew that his glance had been a message; that he had
tried to explain, and that she had not understood. The curtain fell
behind her, and Stafford crossed the room to Travers' side.
"You have heard what has happened?" he demanded.
Travers had resumed his old attitude of indifference. Only his eyes
betrayed the uneasiness which he was really feeling.
"Do you mean the Rajah? No, I haven't heard anything, but if he is
making himself a nuisance, I am not surprised. I expected it."
"Don't talk like that!" Stafford exclaimed, bringing his clenched hand
down on the table. "How dare you! Have you no sense of responsibility?
For you it was no more than a doubtful speculation, and you took care
that there were no risks; but for Marut it means--Heaven knows what it
means!"
"Nothing!" returned Travers coolly. "Nothing to get heated about. The
Rajah feels sore, no doubt, but that will pass. And that is not my
fault. It would have been all right if Miss Cary had not--well, made
such a fool of herself, and incidentally of us all."
Stafford gazed steadily at the man who smiled at him. He could not
understand a character so absolutely without all moral foundations.


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