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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Obstacle Race"

" He smiled at her abruptly,
and something sent a queer sensation through her--a curious feeling of
familiarity that held and yet eluded her. "And--as you see--I'm taking
full advantage of it. I hope you won't think me an awful cad after this.
I can't help it if you do. Miss Moore, forgive my asking,--are you really
obliged to work for your living? Can't you--can't you wait a little?"
Juliet was looking at him with wonder in her soft eyes. His sudden
vehemence was rather bewildering.
"I don't quite know," she said vaguely. "But I rather want to do
something, you know."
"Oh, I know--I know," he said. "But you're not obliged to do this.
Something else is bound to turn up. Or if it doesn't--if it
doesn't--" He ground his heel deep into the yielding sand, and ended
in a husky undertone. "My God! What wouldn't I give for the privilege
of working for you?"
The words were uttered and beyond recall. He looked her straight in the
face as he spoke them, but an instant later he turned and stared out over
the wide, calm sea in a stillness that was somehow more forcible even
than his low, half-strangled speech had been.
Juliet stood silent also, almost as if she were waiting for him to
recover his balance.


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