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

"The Top of the World"


"Thank you," she murmured at last. "I am better now. I will get
up."
"You had better lie still for the present," he said. "I will send
you in some supper later."
His tone was repressive. She could not look him in the face. But,
as he made as if he would rise, something impelled her to lay a
detaining hand upon his arm.
"Please wait a minute!" she said,
He waited, and in a moment, with difficulty, she went on.
"Burke, I have done wrong, I know. I am sorry. Please don't be
angry with me! I--can't bear it."
There was a catch in her voice that she could not restrain. She
had a great longing to hide her face on his shoulder and burst into
tears. But something--some inner, urgent warning--held her back.
Burke sat quite still. There was a touch of rigidity in his
attitude. "All right," he said at last. "I am not angry--with
you."
Her fingers closed upon his arm. "Please don't quarrel with Dr.
Kieff about it!" she said nervously. "It won't happen again."
She felt him stiffen still further at her words. "It certainly
won't," he said briefly, "Tell me, have you got any of the infernal
stuff by you?"
She glanced up at him, startled by the question. "Of course I
haven't!" she said.
His eyes held a glitter that was almost bestial. She dropped her
hand from, his arm as if she had received an electric shock.


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