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Hayward, Rachel

"The Hippodrome"

Emile was furious. 'Very well,' he said. 'If
you are strong enough to grumble, you are strong enough to get up.' So
when he had gone I dressed and came here. I was so glad to get away
from that room."
"Not as glad as I am to see you here. And I've heard you laugh,
Fatalite. You're a little girl today."
"I have moods, dear. I shall depress you sometimes."
Vardri smiled scornfully, and slid down to the floor, his head resting
against her knee. "_Je suis bien content_! What cool hands you have,
and how still you keep. No other woman in the world was ever so
restful. You love to be quiet, don't you? I know you better to-day
than I ever did. You were always in the wrong atmosphere at the
Hippodrome."
"And I have to go back to it," the girl said under her breath. "And I
may be hissed again. You will not be there now, and we shall miss you.
I and Don Juan and Cavaliero, and El Rey, and Don Quixote. Some of the
grooms are horrible, and the animals get so badly treated."
"It seems to me that everything gets badly treated here," Vardri
muttered.


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