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Maxwell, W. B., 1866-1938

"The Devil's Garden"

It seemed that her own two thousand
pounds was a steadily diminishing quantity; she was still greatly
excited whenever she thought about it, but she could not feel again
the respectful rapture caused by her first thought of its lavishly
generous extent. Perhaps just at first, doing what the solicitor
advised her not to do, she had not altogether discriminated between
capital and interest. Dazzled by the abstract notion of wealth, she
had over-estimated concrete potentialities.
Of course William would allow her to accept the legacy. In the early
days after their visit to Old Manninglea she had tormented herself
with fears that he would attempt to force a renunciation of benefits
from that quarter, and she had determined never to yield to so
preposterous an exercise of authority; but now she felt certain that
he would not thus drive her to open revolt. He was still somber and
silent, but, however long he remained in this gloomy state, he would
not interfere with her freedom in regard to the money.
Nevertheless, she felt relieved when he explicitly stated that there
would be no further opposition on his part.
"Oh, Will, I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you talk so sensibly
about it."
"It is not willingly that I say 'Yes.


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