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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Hard Cash"

"
The short man instantly stepped to the door, and put his back to it. The
other said calmly, " No, Mr. Hardie, you cannot leave the house at
present."
"Can't I? Why not, pray?" said Alfred, drawing his breath hard: and his
eyes began to glitter dangerously.
"We are responsible for your safety: we have force at hand if necessary;
pray do not compel us to summon it."
"Why, where am I?" said Alfred, panting now; "is this a prison?"
"No, no," said Mrs. Archbold soothingly: "it is a place where you will be
cured of your headaches and your delusions, and subjected to no
unnecessary pain nor restraint."
"Oh, bother," said the short snob brutally. "Why make two bites of a
cherry? You are in my asylum, young gentleman, and a devilish lucky thing
for you."
At this fatal word, "asylum," Alfred uttered a cry of horror and despair,
and his eyes roved wildly round the room in search of escape. But the
windows of the room, though outside the house they seemed to come as low
as those of the drawing-room, were partly bricked-up within, and made
just too high to be reached without a chair.


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