"You do not recognize me, Lady Dennisford?" I asked.
She frowned slightly.
"Your voice is familiar," she answered, "and--why, you have a look of
Hardross Courage! Who are you?"
"I am Hardross Courage," I answered. "Please do not look at me as though
I were something uncanny. The report of my death was a little premature!"
She held out her hands.
"My dear Hardross!" she exclaimed. "You have taken my breath away!
I am delighted, of course; but"--she continued, looking at me
wonderingly--"what has happened to you? Where did you get those clothes?"
"I am going to explain everything to you, Lady Dennisford," I declared;
"but before I do so, let me ask you something! I have given you one
shock! Can you stand another?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"You see before you," I answered, "one dead man who has come to life. Can
you bear to hear of another?"
Then every shred of color left her cheeks, and she trembled like one
stricken with an ague. But all the time her eyes were pleading
passionately with mine, as though it lay in my power to make the thing
which she longed for true.
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