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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

"
"Oh, back at the house? You overheard that? Well, I am not above
changing my mind in such matters. From what you have just told me I
infer the young woman is more dangerous than I had supposed. Perhaps
some foreign port would be the safer landing place. I shall determine
that after our coming interview. This will be the lady now."
We both arose to our feet as she entered, glancing about her curiously
at the rather strange surroundings, then stopping irresolutely,
apparently recognizing neither of us. The light from the hanging lamp,
waving somewhat from the movement of the vessel, served to soften the
lines of her face, and reveal the delicate beauty. About her were no
signs of fatigue or fear. Suddenly the light of recognition leaped
into her eyes, and she took a quick step forward.
"Mr. Craig--you here? Why, I can hardly understand. Were you made
prisoner also?"
"I suppose that to be my status, although I hardly know," I answered,
yet unable to refrain from accepting the extended hand. "I was
certainly brought aboard in chains, and much against my will. I
presume you know this person?"
She swept my face with a swift, questioning glance, and then looked
beyond me at the man standing beside the desk.
"No, I do not," slowly.


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