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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"Charles Rex"

I wasn't afraid then.
I'm not now. You're the only man on this earth that I'd say it to. I hate
men--most men! But to you--to you--" a sudden sob caught her voice, she
paused to steady it--"to you I just want to be whatever you're needing
most in life. And when I can't be that to you any longer--I'll just drop
out--as I promised--and you--you shall never know a thing about it.
That I swear."
His look came swiftly to her. The blue eyes were swimming in tears. He
made a sudden gesture as of capitulation, and the strain went out of his
look. His arms tightened like springs about her. He spoke lightly,
jestingly.
"_Bien!_ Shall I tell what you shall be to me, _mignonne_?" he said, and
smiled down at her with his royal air of confidence.
She trembled a little and was silent, realizing that he had suddenly
leapt to a decision, fearing desperately what that decision might be. His
old baffling mask of banter had wholly replaced the sombreness, but she
was aware of a force behind it that gripped her irresistibly. She could
not speak in answer.
"I will tell you," he said, and his dark, face laughed into hers with a
merriment half-mischievous, half-kindly. "I am treading the path of
virtue, _mignonne_, and uncommon lonely I'm finding it.


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