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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Doings of Raffles Haw"

Her blanched and rigid
face was turned towards the open door, while he, standing partly
behind it, could not see what it was that had so moved her.
"Hector!" she gasped, with dry lips.
A quick step in the hall, and a slim, weather-tanned young man sprang
forward into the room, and caught her up in his arms as if she had been
a feather.
"You darling!" he said; "I knew that I would surprise you. I came right
up from Plymouth by the night train. And I have long leave, and plenty
of time to get married. Isn't it jolly, dear Laura?"
He pirouetted round with her in the exuberance of his delight. As he
spun round, however, his eyes fell suddenly upon the pale and silent
stranger who stood by the door. Hector blushed furiously, and made an
awkward sailor bow, standing with Laura's cold and unresponsive hand
still clasped in his.
"Very sorry, sir--didn't see you," he said. "You'll excuse my going on
in this mad sort of way, but if you had served you would know what it is
to get away from quarter-deck manners, and to be a free man. Miss
McIntyre will tell you that we have known each other since we were
children, and as we are to be married in, I hope, a month at the latest,
we understand each other pretty well.


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