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Williamson, Charles Norris, 1859-1920

"The Powers and Maxine"

"What's that?" I whispered. "Did you hear anything then?"
Ivor shook his head. And we both listened.
"It's a step outside, on the gravel path," said I, my heart beginning to
knock against my side. "I forgot to lock the gate. Somebody has come
into the garden. What if it should be Raoul--what if he has seen our
shadows on the curtain?"
Mechanically we moved apart, Ivor making a gesture to reassure me, on
account of the position of the lights. He was right. Our shadows
couldn't have fallen on the curtain.
As we stood listening, there came a knock at the front door. It was
Raoul's knock. I was sure of that.
If only Ivor had arrived a quarter of an hour earlier, at the time
appointed, I should have hurried him away before this, so that I might
write to Raoul; but now I could not think what to do for the best--what
to do, that things might not be made far worse instead of better between
Raoul and me. I had suffered so much that my power of quick decision, on
which I'd so often prided myself vaingloriously, seemed gone.
"It is Raoul," I said. "What shall I do?"
"Let him in, of course, and introduce me. Don't act as if you were
afraid.


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