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Vance, Louis Joseph, 1879-1933

"Red Masquerade"

A look of insensate jealousy ...
To risk forfeiting the comradeship that had grown to be so dear? Or to be
constructively derelict in her duty as a daughter?
A difficult choice to make; but Sofia made it honestly. In point of fact,
she assured herself, coldly, there was no choice, there was only one thing
she could do under the circumstances. And she hardened her heart and eyes
as she rose to face Karslake on more equal terms.
But when she saw him waiting patiently, with that friendly smile of his she
knew so well, she hesitated long enough to permit his anticipating her with
a quiet question:
"Well, Princess Sofia?"
And then, amazingly, her tongue betrayed her, the phrases she had framed so
carefully vanished utterly from out her mind; and she heard herself saying
in rather tremulous accents:
"It's all right. I shan't tell."
"About my understanding Chinese?"
"Yes--about that."
"Then you do care--?"
She was panicky with knowledge that somehow her emotions had managed to
slip their moorings and get beyond her handling. It didn't help or mend
matters much to hear her own voice stammering:
"Yes, of course, I--I don't want you to--to have to go away--"
Oh, the vanity of trying to hoodwink him who knew so well what she was now
for the first time realizing!
"Because you like me a little, Princess Sofia?"
"Why--yes--of course I do--"
"Because you know I love you, dear."
And then she found herself clinging to Karslake; and his lips were warm
upon her hands .


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