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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

But afterwards there
would, for I realized also what he would become after such a repulse--a
cold, sneering Nemesis, revengeful, ready to crush even a woman
remorselessly. And he possessed the power, the means to make that
revenge complete. I felt my teeth lock, my hands clinch in sudden
anger. Perhaps I could accomplish little in her defense, but I
intended to be free to do that little. Whatever fate might be in store
for us, that sneering, olive-hued devil should receive his deserts if
ever he attempted wrong to her. That had become the one purpose of my
heart, for I realized here skulked the real danger, the deeper peril of
our situation.
I may have remained there for a quarter of an hour, motionless,
thinking over every incident, and reviewing carefully, and in detail,
the various happenings which had led to our present condition. The
only result was to enlist me yet more strongly to her service.
Believing her statement I could see nothing in her conduct to
criticize, and she appealed to me in all womanhood. I would be a
dastard to doubt, or desert, her cause now, and the warm blood throbbed
in my veins responsive to the memory of what had already been between
us. No one disturbed me, the Captain was still in his stateroom,
where, once or twice, I imagined I heard him pacing the floor.


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