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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"A Cigarette-Maker's Romance"

"
"Oh, how could she be so heartless!" Vjera exclaimed.
"What was the use of telling you? I did not mean to. Good-night, Vjera
dear--I must be quick." He tried to leave her, but she held him fast.
"I will get you the money at once," she said desperately and without the
least hesitation. He started, in the utmost astonishment, staring at her
as though he fancied that she had lost her senses.
"You! Why, Vjera, how can you imagine that I would take it from you, or
how do you think it would be possible for you to find it? You are mad, my
dear child, quite mad!"
In spite of everything, the tears broke from her eyes at the words which
meant so much to her and which seemed to mean so little to him. But she
brushed them bravely away.
"You say you love me--you know that I love you. Do you trust me? Do you
believe in me? And if you do, why then believe that I will do what I say.
And as for taking the fifty marks from me--will not your friends be here
to-night, as you say, and will you not be able to give it all back very
soon? Only wait here--or no, go into the shop and talk to Fischelowitz--I
will bring it to you in less than an hour, I promise you that I will--"
"But how? Oh, Vjera--I am in such trouble that I could almost bring myself
to borrow it of you if you could lend it--I despise myself, but it is
growing so late, and it will only be until to-morrow, only for a few hours
perhaps. If you will wait to-night I may bring it to you before bedtime.


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