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Williamson, Charles Norris, 1859-1920

"The Powers and Maxine"


"Of course it's the most awful rot," said Lord Bob, "but he's accused of
murder."
"It's in the evening papers: not a word had got into the morning ones,"
Uncle Eric went on. "We've only just seen the news since we came here to
wait for you; otherwise I should have tried to do something for him. As
it is, of course I must, as a friend of his, stop in Paris and do what I
can to help him through. But that needn't keep the rest of you from
going on to-day as you planned."
"What an awful thing!" exclaimed Aunt Lil. "I will stay too, if the
girls don't mind. Poor fellow! It may be some comfort to him to feel
that he has friends on the spot, standing by him. I've got thousands of
engagements--we all have--but I shall telegraph to everybody. What about
you, Lord Bob?"
"I'll stand by, with you, Lady Mountstuart," said he, his nice though
not very clever face more anxious-looking than I had ever seen it, his
blue, wide-apart eyes watching me rather wistfully. "Dundas and I have
never been intimate, but he's a fine chap, and I've always admired him.
He's sure to come out of this all right."
Poor Lord Robert! I hadn't much thought to give him then; but dimly I
felt that his anxiety was concerned with me even more than with Ivor, of
whom he spoke so kindly, though he had often shown signs of jealousy in
past days.


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