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Allen, Grant, 1848-1899

"The Woman Who Did"


"And I thanked you for it," Herminia answered, casting down those
dark lashes, and feeling the heart throb violently under her neat
bodice.
Alan drew a deep breath. "And it was THAT you thanked me for," he
ejaculated, tingling.
"Yes, it was that I thanked you for," Herminia answered, with a
still deeper rose spreading down to her bare throat. "I like you
very much, and it pleases me to hear you call me Herminia. Why
should I shrink from admitting it? 'Tis the Truth, you know; and
the Truth shall make us Free. I'm not afraid of my freedom."
Alan paused for a second, irresolute. "Herminia," he said at last,
leaning forward till his face was very close to hers, and he could
feel the warm breath that came and went so quickly; "that's very,
very kind of you. I needn't tell you I've been thinking a great
deal about you these last three weeks or so. You have filled my
mind; filled it to the brim, and I think you know it."
Philosopher as she was, Herminia plucked a blade of grass, and drew
it quivering through her tremulous fingers.


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