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Phillpotts, Eden, 1862-1960

"The Red Redmaynes"


"At last!" whispered Jenny, her face lighting in relief. "He will be
gone for a good two hours now and we can talk."
"Not here, then," Mark answered. "Let us go into the garden. Then I
can see when the man comes back."
They proceeded into the gathering dusk and presently sat together on
a marble seat under an ilex, so near the entrance that none might
arrive without their knowledge.
Presently Ernesto came and turned on an electric bulb that hung over
the scrolled iron work of the outer gate. Then they were alone
again, and the woman threw off all shadow of reserve and restraint.
"Thank God you can listen at last," she said, then poured out a
flood of entreaties. He was swept from every mental hold, drowned
in the torrent of her petitions, baffled and bewildered at one
moment, filled with joy in the next.
"Save me," she implored, "for only you can do so. I am not worthy of
your love and you may well have ceased to care for me or even
respect me; but I can still respect myself, because I know well
enough now that I was the innocent victim of this accursed man.


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