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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"Three More John Silence Stories"

In town I was hardly conscious of his
presence. But the moment we got away from civilisation, it began to
come. He seems so--so _real_ up here. I dread being alone with him. It
makes me feel that something must burst and tear its way out--that he
would do something--or I should do something--I don't know exactly what
I mean, probably,--but that I should let myself go and scream--"
"Joan!"
"Don't be alarmed," she laughed shortly; "I shan't do anything silly,
but I wanted to tell you my feelings in case I needed your help. When I
have intuitions as strong as this they are never wrong, only I don't
know yet what it means exactly."
"You must hold out for the month, at any rate," I said in as
matter-of-fact a voice as I could manage, for her manner had somehow
changed my surprise to a subtle sense of alarm. "Sangree only stays the
month, you know. And, anyhow, you are such an odd creature yourself that
you should feel generously towards other odd creatures," I ended lamely,
with a forced laugh.


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