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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"The Snare"

I shall have to go back
into that stuffy store-cupboard of yours till God knows when." He
lost all self-control at the prospect and broke into imprecations
of his luck.
She attempted to soothe him. But he wasn't easy to soothe.
"And then," he grumbled on, "you have so little sense that you want
to run straight off to Terence and explain to him what Tremayne
was doing here. You might at least have the grace to wait until I
am off the premises, and give me the mercy of a start before you set
the dogs on my trail."
"Oh, Dick, Dick, you are so cruel!" she protested. "How can you
say such things to me, whose only thought is for you, to save you."
"Then don't talk any more about telling Terence," he replied.
"I won't, Dick. I won't." She drew him down beside her on the
ottoman and her fingers smoothed his rather tumbled red hair, just
as her words attempted to smooth the ruffles in his spirit.
"You know I did didn't realise, or I should not have thought of
it even. I was so concerned for Ned for the moment."
"Don't I tell you there's not the need?" he assured her. "Ned will
be safe enough, devil a doubt. It's for you to keep to what you
told them from the balcony; that you heard a cry, went out to see
what was happening and saw Tremayne there bending over the body.


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