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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

"
"What letters? What pictures were they?"
"Letters from the Judge to his son--intimate, family letters, and a
photograph of the father and this man taken together."
"And were the letters addressed to Philip?"
"The envelopes had been destroyed, and no name was mentioned, but the
photograph was endorsed in the Judge's handwriting."
She sank down on a locker, and hid her face in her hands. The pitiful
dejection in her attitude compelled me to bend over her in quick sympathy.
"Please do not take it like that," I urged. "We shall find a way of
escape if we keep our courage, and work together."
"Oh, it is not that," and she looked up into my face. "I am not afraid.
Only I cannot bear the thought that you doubt me ever so little. I know
I have been indiscreet, that you might justly deem me an adventuress.
But I am not, Gordon Craig; I am a good woman left to fight alone, and I
must have your faith, or break down utterly."
"Why do you suppose you have not?" I asked, grasping her hands in
complete forgetfulness. "We are together now in open fight against these
villains. There is no longer any purpose in acting a lie."
"It was a lie?"
"A bare-faced one. Never for an instant did I intend deserting you, or
becoming that man's tool.


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