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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Simon the Jester"

Of course, as soon as he learns that you're
a rich woman, he'll want to live with you, and use your money for his
gaming-hell."
"I am going to meet him," she said quietly.
"I forbid it."
"You're too late, dear friend. I wrote him a letter before dinner and
sent it to the Cercle Africain by special messenger. I also wrote to
Anastasius. I asked them both to see me to-morrow morning. That's why
I've been so gay this evening."
At the sight of my blank face she laughed, and with one of her movements
rose from her chair. I rose too.
"Are you angry with me?"
"I thought I had walked out of a nightmare," I said. "I find I'm still
in it."
"But don't be angry with me. It was the only way."
"The only way to, or out of, what?" I asked, bewildered.
"Never mind."
She looked at me with a singular expression in her slumbrous eyes. It
was sad, wistful, soothing, and gave me the idea of a noble woman making
a senseless sacrifice.
"There is no earthly reason to do this on account of Dale," I protested.


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