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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"

Often she
would suddenly rise from the piano and walk swiftly from the
room, through the halls, into the park, where, though he
followed, he never could find her. One day she and Madame
returned from a walk in the forest, the one with high color and
brilliant eyes, the other impassive as ice. Now, all these
things did not escape Maurice, but he could not piece them
together with any result.
On the morning of the tenth day the two prisoners came down to
breakfast, wondering how much longer this house party was going
to last.
"George! I wish I had a pipe," said Maurice.
"So do I," Fitzgerald echoed glumly. "I am tired of cigars and
weary of those eternal cigarettes. How the deuce are we going to
get out of this?"
"What's your hurry? We're having a good time."
"That's the trouble. Hang the duchess!"
"Hang her and welcome. But why do you complain to me and not to
Madame? Are you afraid of her? Does she possess, then, what is
called tamer's magnetism? O, my lion, if only you would roar a
bit more at her and less at me!"
"I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a
deal to be out of this.


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