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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"After Dark"


"Won't _that_ offend you even?" said Danville, with an insolent
smile. "You have a wonderful temper--any other man would have
called me out!"
Trudaine looked back at him steadily; and taking out his
handkerchief, passed it over the soiled cover of the book.
"If I could wipe the stain of your blood off my conscience as
easily as I can wipe the stain of your boot off this book," he
said quietly, "you should not live another hour. Don't cry,
Rose," he continued, turning again to his sister: "I will take
care of your book for you until you can keep it yourself."
"You will do this! you will do that!" cried Danville, growing
more and more exasperated, and letting his anger got the better
even of his cunning now. "Talk less confidently of the
future--you don't know what it has in store for you. Govern your
tongue when you are in my presence; a day may come when you will
want my help--my help; do you hear that?"
Trudaine turned his face from his sister, as if he feared to let
her see it when those words were spoken.
"The man who followed me to-day was a spy--Danville's spy!" That
thought flashed across his mind, but he gave it no utterance.
There was an instant's pause of silence; and through it there
came heavily on the still night air the rumbling of distant
wheels. The sound advanced nearer and nearer--advanced and ceased
under the window.


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