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

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

"
Mrs. Carmichael snapped her lips together in a straight,
uncompromising line.
"Very much obliged to His Highness, I'm sure, but I stay with the
regiment," she said.
Nicholson could not repress a smile at this description of her
husband, but there was something more than amusement in his
brightening eyes.
"Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael, I knew that would be your answer. But it
is my duty to ask the others--to give them their choice. There is
little hope for those who remain." He could not bring himself to turn
to the cowering figure upon the sofa. There is a shame which is not
personal, and he was passionately ashamed for that quivering bulk of
fear, for that greedy hope which he felt rather than saw creep up into
the livid face. He looked at Lois. Her head was lifted and the fiery
enthusiasm which spoke out of every line of the small dark face
transformed her from a saddened woman back to the girl who never
played a losing game but she won it, point by point, by pluck and
daring.
"If I shan't be a bother, I wish to stay with you all," she said with
studied simplicity. But her tone was eloquent.
"A brave comrade is always welcome," he answered. "Your husband--" He
hesitated, and then concluded in a low voice: "Your husband offered to
go with you. He is waiting outside with the horses." He avoided her
eyes, but her tone betrayed to him the pain that he had unwillingly
caused her.


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