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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"Victory"


"You marvel, you miracle, you man's luck and joy--one in a million! No,
the only one. You have found your man in me," he whispered tremulously.
"Listen! They are having their last talk together; for I'll do for your
gentleman, too, by midnight."
Without the slightest tremor she murmured, as soon as the tightening of
her breast had eased off and the words would come:
"I wouldn't be in too much of a hurry--with him."
The pause, the tone, had all the value of meditated advice.
"Good, thrifty girl!" he laughed low, with a strange feline gaiety,
expressed by the undulating movement of his shoulders and the sparkling
snap of his oblique eyes. "You am still thinking about the chance of
that swag. You'll make a good partner, that you will! And, I say, what a
decoy you will make! Jee-miny!"
He was carried away for a moment, but his face darkened swiftly.
"No! No reprieve. What do you think a fellow is--a scarecrow? All hat
and clothes and no feeling, no inside, no brain to make fancies for
himself? No!" he went on violently. "Never in his life will he go again
into that room of yours--never any more!"
A silence fell. He was gloomy with the torment of his jealousy, and did
not even look at her. She sat up and slowly, gradually, bent lower and
lower over him, as if ready to fall into his arms. He looked up at last,
and checked this droop unwittingly.


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