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Augusta, Clara, 1839-1905

"The Fatal Glove"

But I have no
talent in that direction. My friends are all well, you say? What of Miss
Lee? Did you see her?"
"Yes. She is well. What are you reading?" lifting the book from the
ground where it had fallen.
Margie turned suddenly upon him, and regarded him searchingly.
"Why do you evade answering my questions, Mr. Castrani? It is natural
that I should want to hear something of the home from which I have been
so long away, is it not? Why do you refuse to satisfy my reasonable
curiosity on that subject?"
Castrani's handsome face clouded--he looked at her with tender pity in
his eyes.
"Miss Harrison, why will you press me further? Your friends are all
well."
"I know. But there is something behind that. Tell it to me at once."
"I cannot--indeed, I cannot! You must hear it from some other lips.
I would rather die, than cause you one single pang of sorrow!"
"You are very kind, Mr. Castrani--you mean generously--but I want to
know." Some subtle instinct seemed to tell her what she was to hear--for
she added, "Is it of Miss Lee?"
"I told you Miss Lee was well."
"Mr. Castrani. I have given you more of my confidence than I have ever
bestowed on any other person, because I respect you above all men, and
because I have perfect confidence in your honor.


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