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Maxwell, W. B., 1866-1938

"The Devil's Garden"


"Good night, daddy."
"Good night, Rachel."
His daughter had kissed him, and she stood between his knees while he
patted her and caressed her. She too was young and fresh and
sweet-smelling; and yet the touch of her purified one. So long as he
was holding her, it seemed to him that a father's love is so great and
so pure that there can not be any other love in the world.
But a minute afterward, when his own girl had gone and the other girl
was again before his eyes, all the impure unworthy unpermissible
desires came rushing back upon him.
They lighted lamps in the kitchen presently, and he sat staring at the
open doorway, alone now, after the table had been cleared. The doorway
seemed like an empty picture-frame. But each time that Norah came and
stood there looking out for a moment, the picture was in its frame.
With the light behind her, she was just a thin black figure; and he
thought how slight, how weak and small a thing to possess such
tremendous, almost irresistible power over him.
Next evening, between tea-time and supper-time, Norah absented herself
without leave. Mavis did not miss her at first. Then she thought that
very probably the girl was wandering about with the children, or
gossiping with the maid at the dairy; but then old Mrs.


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