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Thurston, Katherine Cecil, 1875-1911

"The Masquerader"


"You mustn't!" she said, softly. "Look!"
The carriage had stopped beside one of the small islands that
intersect the place; a group of pedestrians were crowded upon
it, under the light of the electric lamp--wayfarers who, like
themselves, were awaiting a passage. Loder took a cursory
glance at them, then turned back to Eve.
"What are they, after all, but men and women?" he said.
"They'd understand--every one of them." He laughed in his
turn; nevertheless he withdrew his arm. Her feminine thought
for conventionalities appealed to him. It was an
acknowledgment of dependency.
For a while they sat silent, the light of the street lamp
flickering through the glass of the window, the hum of voices
and traffic coming to them in a continuous rise and fall of
sound. At first the position was interesting; but, as the
seconds followed each other, it gradually became irksome.
Loder, watching the varying expressions of Eve's face, grew
impatient of the delay, grew suddenly eager to be alone again
in the fragrant darkness.


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