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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Top of the World"


"Ah! Let me go!" she said.
He held her still, but his hold slackened. "I won the race," he
said.
"Yes, but--but it was only a game," she gasped back incoherently.
"You--you can't--you won't----"
"Kiss you?" he said. "Not if you forbid it." That calmed her very
strangely. His tone was so quiet; it revived her courage. She
uttered a faint laugh. "Is that the stake? I can't refuse to
pay--a debt of honour."
"Thank you," he said, and she saw a curious smile gleam for a
moment on his face. "That means you are prepared to take me like a
nasty pill, doesn't it? I like your pluck. It's the best thing
about you. But I won't put it to the test this time."
He made as if he would release her, but with an odd impulse she
checked him. Somehow it was unbearable to be humoured like that.
She looked him straight in the eyes.
"We are pals, aren't we?" she said.
The smile still lingered on Burke's face; it had an enigmatical
quality that disquieted her, she could not have said wherefore.
"It's rather an ambiguous term, isn't it?" he said.
"No, it isn't," she assured him, promptly and Very earnestly. "It
means that we are friends, but we are not in love and we are not
going to pretend we are. At least," she flushed suddenly under his
look, "that is what it means to me."
"I see," said Burke. "And what would happen if we fell in love
with each other?"
Her eyes sank in spite of her.


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