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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Golden Scarecrow"


"I'm not frightened. I don't, in the least, want things made comfortable
for me. I can get along very nicely, indeed, without you. You're full of
sentiment and gush--things that I detest--and it won't be the least use
in the world for you to ask me to be good, and tender, and all the rest
of it. I'm not like your other babies."
He must have known, of course, that she was not, but, nevertheless, He
stayed. "I understand perfectly," He assured her. "But, nevertheless, I
don't give you up. You may be, for all you know, more interesting to me
than all the others put together. And remember this--every time you do
anything at all kind or thoughtful, every time you think of any one or
care for them, every time you use your influence for good in any way, my
power over you is a little stronger, I shall be a little closer to you,
your escape will be a little harder."
"Oh, you needn't flatter yourself," she answered Him. "There's precious
little danger of _my_ self-sacrifice or love for others. That's not
going to be my attitude to life at all. You'd better not waste your time
over me.


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