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Duncan, Sara Jeannette, 1862?-1922

"Hilda A Story of Calcutta"

Yet to analysis it was only the grey look of
eyes habited to regard the future with penetration and to find nothing
there.
"Have you told him?" Hilda asked after an instant's pause, during which
she conceded something, she hardly knew what; she meant to find out
later.
"I haven't seen him. But I will tell him, I promise you."
"I have no doubt you will! But don't promise _me_. I won't even witness
the vow!" Hilda cried.
"What does it matter? I shall certainly tell him." The words fell
definitely like pebbles. Hilda thoughtfully picked them up.
"On the whole," she said, "perhaps it would be as well. Yes, it is my
advice. It is quite likely that he will be revolted. It may be
curative."
Alicia turned away her head to hide the faint frown that nevertheless
crept into her voice. "I don't think so," she said. "How you do juggle
with things! I don't know why I talk to you about this--this matter. I
am sure I ought not."
"I was going to say," pursued Hilda, indifferent to her scruple, "that I
shouldn't be at all surprised if his illness leaves him quite
emotionally sane. The poison has worked itself out of his blood--perhaps
the passion and the poison were the same.


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