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

"The Obstacle Race"

But in a moment she reached up and
took his hand in hers, restraining him.
"Not again!" she whispered. "Please not again!"
"All right. I won't," he said. "Not yet anyhow. But speak to me! Tell me
it's all right! You're not frightened?"
"I am--a little," she confessed.
"Not at me! Juliet!"
"No, not at you. At least," she laughed unsteadily. "I'm not quite
sure. You--you--I think you must let me go for a minute--to get back
my balance."
"Must I?" he said.
She lifted the hand she had taken and laid it against her cheek. "I've
got--a good deal to say to you, Dick," she said. "You've taken me so
completely by storm. Please be generous now! Please let me have--the
honours of war!"
"My dear!" he said.
He let her go with the words, and she clasped her hands about her knees
and looked out to sea. She was still trembling a little, but as he sat
beside her in unbroken silence she grew gradually calmer, and presently
she spoke without any apparent difficulty.
"You've taken a good deal for granted, Dick, haven't you? You don't know
me very well."
"Don't I?" he said.
"No. You've been--dreadfully headlong all through." She smiled
faintly, with a touch of sadness.


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