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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"The Morals of Marcus Ordeyne : a Novel"

' Oh, the other? Oh, no, he
is too stupid. He does not say anything. His name is Timkins. I
only play with him. He is so funny. He can go and kill himself;
I won't care."
"Never mind about Timkins," said I, "I want to hear about
Pasquale. When did he teach you that wicked, wicked word?"
I think Carlotta flushed as she regarded the point of her red
slipper.
"I went for a walk and he met me at the corner and walked here by
my side. Was that wicked?"
"What would the excellent Hamdi Effendi have said to it?"
Woman-like she evaded my question.
"I hope Hamdi is dead. Do you think so?"
"I hope not. For if you behave in this naughty manner, I shall
have to send you back to him."
She had imperceptibly moved nearer my chair until she stood quite
close to my side, so that as I spoke the last words I looked up
into her face. She put her arm about my shoulders. It is one of
her pretty, caressing ways.
"I will be good--very good," she said.
"You will have to," said I, leaning back my head.


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