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Augusta, Clara, 1839-1905

"The Fatal Glove"

I would not even speak to you, if you desired
it should be so. But I could travel in the same car with you, and be
there to protect you, if you should need me."
"I thank you greatly. But I had rather you went no further. I shall meet
with no difficulty, I think. I shall reach Nurse Day's by sunset."
"As you will. I will not press the matter. Your pleasure shall be mine."
A little later, he assisted her from the carriage that had taken her to
the depot. Her baggage was checked--he handed her the check, and her
ticket, and then pressed into her hand a roll of bank-notes. She put them
back quietly, but he declined taking them.
"I do not give it to you--I lend it to you. You shall repay it at your
convenience."
"On these conditions, I thank you, also."
She put out her hand. He took it, resisted the inclination to press his
lips to it, and held it lightly in his.
"If you will give me permission--to call upon you--should I be in
Lightfield during your stay there--I shall be more than happy!"
She was about to refuse, but the mute pleading of his eyes deterred her.
He had been kind to her, and it could do her no harm. Probably, he would
never come to Lightfield, so she gave him the permission he asked for.
The day passed without incident, and nightfall found Margie within ten
miles of her destination.


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