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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

One moment. Would you be good enough to turn your face to the
window?"
The girl obeyed, and Dick watched her face keenly,--so keenly that she made as
if to hide behind Torpenhow.
"The eyes have it," said Dick, walking up and down. "They are superb eyes for
my business. And, after all, every head depends on the eyes. This has been sent
from heaven to make up for--what was taken away. Now the weekly strain's off my
shoulders, I can get to work in earnest. Evidently sent from heaven. Yes. Raise
your chin a little, please."
"Gently, old man, gently. You're scaring somebody out of her wits," said
Torpenhow, who could see the girl trembling.
"Don't let him hit me! Oh, please don't let him hit me! I've been hit cruel
today because I spoke to a man. Don't let him look at me like that! He's
reg'lar wicked, that one. Don't let him look at me like that, neither! Oh, I
feel as if I hadn't nothing on when he looks at me like that!"
The overstrained nerves in the frail body gave way, and the girl wept like a
little child and began to scream. Dick threw open the window, and Torpenhow
flung the door back.
"There you are," said Dick, soothingly. "My friend here can call for a
policeman, and you can run through that door.


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