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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"The Snare"

"
He looked at her and sneered. "That's a matter you can soon mend,"
he told her. "Call up Terence and the others and have me shot. I
promise I shall make no resistance. You see, I'm not able to resist
even if I would."
"Oh, how can you think it?" She was indignant.
"Well, what is a poor devil to think? You blow hot and cold all in
a breath. I'm sick and ill and feverish," he continued with
self-pity, "and now even you find me a trouble. I wish to God
they'd shoot me and make an end. I'm sure it would be best for
everybody."
And now she was on her knees beside him, soothing him; protesting
that he had misunderstood her; that she had meant - oh, she didn't
know what she had meant, she was so distressed on his account.
"And there's never the need to be," he assured her. "Surely you
can be guided by me if you want to help me. As soon as ever my
leg gets well again I'll be after fending for myself, and trouble
you no further. But if you want to shelter me until then, do it
thoroughly, and don't give way to fear at every shadow without
substance that falls across your path."
She promised it, and on that promise left him; and, believing him,
she bore herself more cheerfully for the remainder of the day.


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