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Oemler, Marie Conway, 1879-1932

"The Purple Heights"

And
there, oh blessed vision, sat Nancy! She had been sleepless and
restless, and had stolen out of her room for something to read that
hadn't been selected by Mrs. MacGregor. It was rather late, but
finding the quiet library pleasanter to her mood than her own room,
she curled up in a comfortable chair and began to read. The book was
Hardy's "Tess," and its strong and somber passion and tragedy filled
her with pity and terror. Something in her was roused by the story;
she felt that she understood and suffered with that simple and
passionate soul.
She looked up, startled, as Glenn entered the room. He came to her
swiftly, his arms outstretched, his face alight.
"You!" he cried, radiant and elate. "You!"
Nancy rose, torn between the desire to retreat, and to fling herself
into those waiting arms. Glenn left her no choice. He seized her,
roughly and masterfully, and held her close, pressing her against
his body. His lips fastened upon hers. Nancy closed her eyes and
shivered. She felt small and helpless, a leaf before the wind, and
she was afraid.


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