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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"A Woman-Hater"

He calculated that she could hardly, at that
distance, have heard every syllable, and, at the same time, he was sure
she had seen Miss Gale point at the ring.
"Hum!" said Fanny; and that was all she said.
Severne went to his own room to think. He was almost dizzy. He dreaded
this Rhoda Gale. She was incomprehensible, and held a sword over his
head. Tongues go fast in the country. At the idea of this keen girl and
Zoe Vizard sitting under a tree for two hours, with nothing to do but
talk, his blood ran cold. Surely Miss Gale must hate him. She would not
always spare him. For once he could not see his way clear. Should he tell
her half the truth, and throw himself on her mercy? Should he make love
to her? Or what should he do? One thing he saw clear enough: he must not
quit the field. Sooner or later, all would depend on his presence, his
tact, and his ready wit.
He felt like a man who could not swim, and wades in deepening water. He
must send somebody to Homburg, or abandon all thought of his money. Why
abandon it? Why not return to Ina Klosking? His judgment, alarmed at the
accumulating difficulties, began to intrude its voice.


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