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Townsend, George Alfred, 1841-1914

"Bohemian Days Three American Tales"

He forced her unresisting into a chair, and flung them far out of
the window, over the house-roofs. Then he sat down a moment to gain
breath, and marked her with eyes in which she saw that she was already
tried and sentenced.
"Who gave you those things, Suzette?" he asked in a forced, strange
monotone.
"My ancient _patronne_."
"What's her name?"
"I don't know."
"Where does she live?"
"I shan't tell you."
He held her wrist tightly and pressed her back till her eyes were
compelled to mark his white, pinched lips and altogether bloodless
temples. His hand tightened upon her; his full, boyish figure
straightened and heightened beyond nature; his regard was terrible. A
terrible fear and silence fell around about them.
"These are the gifts of a man," he whispered; "you do not know it better
than I. I shall walk out for one hour; at the end of that time there
must not be even a ribbon of yours in this chamber."


PART IV.
REMORSE.

He gave the same order to the proprietor as he passed down-stairs, and
hurried at a crazy pace across the Pont des Arts to the rooms of
Terrapin. That philosopher was playing whist with his friends, and gave
as his opinion that Ralph was "spooney."
Ralph drank much, talked much, chafed more.


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meble dla dzieci
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