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Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Fashionable Adventures of Joshua Craig; a Novel"

"
"I am not the general sort of person," said he. "It is not strange
that I should arouse extraordinary feelings, is it? Driver"--he
had the trap in the roof up and was thrusting through it a slip of
paper--"take us to that street and number."
She gasped with a tightening at the heart. "I must return to the
hotel at once," she said hurriedly.
He fixed his gaze upon her. "We are going to the preacher's," said
he.
"The preacher's?" she murmured, shrinking in terror.
"Grant is waiting for us there"--he glanced at his watch--"or,
rather, will be there in about ten minutes. We are a little
earlier than I anticipated."
She flushed crimson, paled, felt she would certainly suffocate
with rage.
"Before you speak," continued he, "listen to me. You don't want to
go back into that torment of doubt in which we've both been
hopping about for a month, like a pair of damned souls being used
as tennis balls by fiends. Let's settle the business now, and for
good and all. Let us have peace--for God's sake, peace! I know
you've been miserable. I know I've been on the rack. And it's got
to stop. Am I not right?"
She leaned back in her corner of the cab, shut her eyes, said no
more--and all but ceased to think.


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