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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Half a Rogue"


Patty accepted it mechanically. She had determined not to read the
paper. But she knew now, if she unfolded it, she would turn
immediately to the local pages and search for Warrington's speech. She
read it, and she hated herself for admiring it. The self-lie was not
among Patty's failings. There was no denying that Warrington's speech
was a good oratorical effort; every line of it rang sound and true;
but that might be a trick of the trade. He could make thieves and
villains on the stage speak glibly and plausibly; certainly he could
do as much for himself. One thing she could not deny him, and that was
frankness. He had confessed to her last summer that he was not, or had
not been, a good man in the strict sense of the word. She laid down
the paper and finished her coffee. She was glad that she did not have
to face Kate at each meal. She felt that she couldn't have trusted
herself; there were times when she spoke the first thought, and always
regretted it. Poor John, poor John!
From the table she went directly to the Indian basket that held all
the cards and invitations. The mother, concerned with her household
duties, left her to herself.


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