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Augusta, Clara, 1839-1905

"The Fatal Glove"

He spoke to her cheerfully, though he could not fail to notice that
some terrible blow had fallen upon her since last he had seen her, gay
and brilliant, at a party in New York. But he forbore to question her.
Margie appreciated his delicacy, and something impelled her to confide
to him what she had not entrusted to the descretion of any other person.
She owed him this confidence, for his disinterested kindness.
"Mr. Castrani," she said, quietly enough, outwardly, "circumstances, of
which I cannot speak, have made it necessary for me to leave New York. I
do not desire that the place of my destination shall be known to any one.
But to show you how much I appreciate your kindness, and how entirely I
trust you, I will inform you that I am going to Lightfield, in New
Hampshire, to stop an indefinite length of time with my old nurse, Mrs.
Day."
Castrani was visibly affected by this proof of her confidence.
"From me, no one shall ever know the place of your refuge," he said,
earnestly. "Your train leaves at ten. It is now nine. If you would only
permit me to see you safely to the end of your journey!"
She flushed. He read a quiet reproach in her eye.
"Pardon me. I know it may seem like officiousness, but I would try and
not be disagreeable to you.


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