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Malet, Lucas, 1852-1931

"Deadham Hard"

And of this Damaris was actually, if unconsciously, sensible
as he closed the door and, passing between the stumpy pillars, walked up
the long narrow room and stood, his hands behind him, his back to the
pleasantly hissing and crackling fire of driftwood.
"Alone, dear witch?" he said, and, seeing the open letter in her
hand--"Well, what do you make of this proposition?" And yet again, as she
raised serious pondering eyes--"You find it an extensive order?"
"I find it magnificent for him--beautifully as it should be, adequate
and right."
"And for yourself?" Carteret asked, aware of a carefulness in her
language and intrigued by it.
"Magnificent for me, too--though it takes away my breath."
"You must learn to breathe deeper, that's all," he returned, gently
teasing her.
"And who is to teach me to breathe deeper, dear Colonel Sahib," she
quickly, and rather embarrassingly, asked. "Not my father. He'll have
innumerable big things to do and to do them without waste of energy he
must be saved at every point.


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