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Thurston, Katherine Cecil, 1875-1911

"The Masquerader"

The
long-ago incident in the Italian mountains had faded, like a
crayon study in which the tones have merged and gradually lost
character. The past had paled before the present--as golden
hair might pale before black. The simile came with apparent
irrelevance. Then again Blessington pressed his arm.
"Now, sir!" he said, drawing away and lifting the curtain that
hung before the entrance of the tent.
Loder looked at the amused, boyish face lighted by the hanging
lamp, and smiled pleasantly; then, with a shrug of the
shoulders, he entered the pavilion and the curtain fell behind
him.

XV

On entering the pavilion, Loder's first feeling was one of
annoyed awkwardness at finding himself in almost total
darkness. But as his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, the
feeling vanished and the absurdity of the position came to his
mind.
The tent was small, heavily draped with silk and smelling of
musk. It was divided into two sections by an immovable
curtain that hung from the roof to within a few feet of the
floor.


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