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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"A Poor Wise Man"

"
Slightly flushed, he smoothed his hair in front of the mirror over
the stand.
"She's a nice child," he said. In his eyes was the look of the
hunting animal that scents food.

CHAPTER X

Lily did not sleep very well that night. She was repentant, for
one thing, for her mother's evening alone, and for the anxiety in
her face when she arrived.
"I've been so worried," she said, "I was afraid your grandfather
would get back before you did."
"I'm sorry, mother dear. I know it was selfish. But I've had a
wonderful evening."
"Wonderful?"
"All sorts of talk," Lily said, and hesitated. After all, her
mother would not understand, and it would only make her uneasy.
"I suppose it is rank hearsay to say it, but I like Mr. Doyle."
"I detest him."
"But you don't know him, do you?"
"I know he is stirring up all sorts of trouble for us. Lily, I
want you to promise not to go back there."
There was a little silence. A small feeling of rebellion was
rising in the girl's heart.
"I don't see why. She is my own aunt."
"Will you promise?"
"Please don't ask me, mother. I--oh, don't you understand? It
is interesting there, that's all.


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