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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Clarence"

But as he turned towards her with a reassuring smile, he
was shocked to see that her agitation and pallor were far beyond any
physical cause. She motioned him desperately to shut the window by which
he had entered, and said, with white lips,--
"I must speak with you alone!"
"Certainly. But there is no immediate danger to you even here--and I can
soon put you beyond the reach of any possible harm."
"Harm--to me! God! if it were only that!"
He stared at her uneasily.
"Listen," she said gaspingly, "listen to me! Then hate, despise me--kill
me if you will. For you are betrayed and ruined--cut off and surrounded!
It has been helped on by me, but I swear to you the blow did not come
from MY hand. I would have saved you. God only knows how it happened--it
was Fate!"
In an instant Brant saw the whole truth instinctively and clearly. But
with the revelation came the usual calmness and perfect self-possession
which never yet had failed him in any emergency. With the sound of the
increasing cannonade and its shifting position made clearer to his ears,
the view of his whole threatened position spread out like a map before
his eyes, the swift calculation of the time his men could hold the ridge
in his mind--even a hurried estimate of the precious moments he could
give to the wretched woman before him--he even then, gravely and gently,
led her to a chair and said in a calm voice,--
"That is not enough! Speak slowly, plainly.


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