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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Swindler and Other Stories"

"
"That was not all that happened," Fletcher responded gravely. "Of
course, you can refuse to tell me any more. I am absolutely at your
mercy. But I do not think you will refuse. It isn't treating me quite
fairly, is it, to keep me in the dark?"
She saw at once that to fence with him further was out of the question.
Quite plainly he meant to bring her to book. But she felt painfully
unequal to the ordeal before her. She was conscious of an almost
physical sense of shrinking.
Nevertheless, as he waited, she nerved herself at length to speak.
"What makes you think that something happened?"
"It is fairly obvious, is it not?" he returned quietly. "I could not
very easily think otherwise. If you will allow me to say so, your device
was not quite subtle enough to pass muster. Even had you dropped that
bangle by inadvertence--which you did not--you would not, in the
ordinary course of things, have sent me off post haste to recover it."
"No?" she questioned, with a faint attempt to laugh.
"No," he rejoined, and this time she heard a note of anger, deep and
unmistakable, in his voice.
She drew herself together as it reached her. It was to be a battle,
then, and instinctively she knew that she would need all her strength.
"Well," she said finally, affecting an assurance she was far from
feeling, "I have no objection to your knowing what happened since you
have asked.


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