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Thurston, Katherine Cecil, 1875-1911

"The Masquerader"

You remember?" She glanced away from
him across the Park to where the grass was already showing
greener.
Chilcote felt ill at ease. Again he put his hand to his coat
collar.
"Oh yes," he said, hastily--"yes." He wished now that he had
questioned Loder more closely on the proceedings of that
party. It seemed to him, on looking back, that Loder had
mentioned nothing on the day of their last exchange but the
political complications that absorbed his mind.
"I couldn't explain then," Lillian went on. "I couldn't
explain before a crowd of people that it wasn't your dark head
showing over Leonard's red one that surprised me, but the most
wonderful, the most extraordinary likeness--" She paused.
The car was moving slower; there was a delight in the easy
motion through the fresh, early air. But Chilcote's
uneasiness had been aroused. He no longer felt soothed.
"What likeness?" he asked, sharply.
She turned to him easily. "Oh, a likeness I have noticed
before," she said. "A likeness that always seemed strange,
but that suddenly became incredible at Blanche's party.


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