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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"

Those who dwell in my heart, which you
call a citadel, enter by that road."
"Sacrifice?" Fervor lighted his face again. "Do you wish my
fortune? It is yours. My life? It is yours. Do you wish me to
lead the army of the duchess into Bleiberg? It shall be done.
Sacrifice? I have sacrificed the best years of youth for nothing;
my life has been made up of sacrifices."
"Monsieur, if I promised to listen to you here-after, if I
promised a heart that has never known the love of man, if I
promised lips that have never known the lips of any man save my
father--" She moved away from the chair, within an arm's length
of him. "If I promised all these without reservation, would you
aid me to give back to the duchess her own?"
Instantly her arms were pinioned to her sides, and he had drawn
her so close that she could feel his heart beat against her own.
"Have no fear," he said. The voice was unfamiliar to her ears.
"I shall not kiss you. Let me look into your eyes, Madame, your
eyes, and read the lie which is written there. My fortune and my
life are not enough. Keep your love, Madame; I have no wish to
purchase it.


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