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Malet, Lucas, 1852-1931

"Deadham Hard"

"
"I am not sure the 'almost' was quite true." Damaris put in hastily, her
cheeks more than ever aflame.
"Yes it was, most delicious child--I protest it was. And I'm not sure I'm
altogether sorry."
Slightly, daintily, she kissed the flaming cheek.
"But I do love Colonel Carteret," Damaris repeated, with much wide-eyed
earnestness. "I trust him and depend on him as I do on nobody else."
"'Almost' nobody else?"
Damaris shook her head. She felt a wee bit disappointed in Henrietta.
This persistence displeased her as trivial, as lacking in perfection of
breeding and taste.
"Quite nobody," she said. And without permitting time for rejoinder
launched forth into the subject of the book on the campaigns of Shere
Ali, which, as she explained, had been undertaken at Carteret's
suggestion and with such encouraging result. She waxed eloquent regarding
the progress of the volume and its high literary worth.
"But I was a little nervous lest my father should lose his interest and
grow slack when we were alone, and he'd only me to talk things over with
and to consult, so I begged Colonel Carteret to come abroad with us.


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