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Thurston, Katherine Cecil, 1875-1911

"The Masquerader"


Chilcote jerked the book, then laughed with a touch of
embarrassment. "Oh, the crosses? Merely to remind me that
certain 'appointments must be kept. You know my beastly
memory! But what about the day? Shall we fix the day?" His
voice was in control, but mentally her trivial question had
disturbed and jarred him. "What day shall we say?" he
repeated. "Monday in next week?"
Lillian glanced up with a faint exclamation of disappointment.
"How horribly faraway!" She spoke with engaging petulance,
and, leaning forward afresh, drew the book from Chilcote's
hand. "What about to-morrow?" she exclaimed, turning back a
page. "Why not to-morrow? I knew I saw a blank space."
"To-morrow! Oh, I--I--" He stopped. i
"Jack!" Her voice dropped. It was true that she desired
Chilcote's opinion on her adventure, for Chilcote's opinion on
men and manners had a certain bitter shrewdness; but the
exercise of her own power added a point to the desire. If the
matter had ended with the gain or loss of a tete-a-tete with
him, it is probable that, whatever its utility, she would not
have pressed it, but the underlying motive was the stronger.


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