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Benson, Robert Hugh, 1871-1914

"Come Rack! Come Rope!"

There was
no escape from the pressure of circumstance. It was unfortunate that
such an accident should have fallen out here, in the one place in all
the world where it should not; but the fact was a fact. Meanwhile, it
was not only resentment that Marjorie felt: it was a strange sort of
terror as well--a terror of sitting in the house of an apostate--of one
who had freely and deliberately renounced that faith for which she
herself lived so completely; and that it was the father of one whom she
knew as she knew Robin--with whose fate, indeed, her own had been so
intimately entwined--this combined to increase that indefinable fear
that rested on her as she stared round the walls, and sat over the food
and drink that this man provided.
The climax came as they were finishing dinner: for the door from the
hall opened abruptly, and the squire came in. He bowed to the ladies, as
the manner was, straightening his trim, tight figure again defiantly;
asked a civil question or two; directed a servant behind him to bring
the horses to the parlour door in half an hour's time; and then snapped
out the sentence which he was, plainly, impatient to speak.
"Mistress Manners," he said, "I wish to have a word with you privately."
Marjorie, trembling at his presence, turned a wavering face to her
friend; and Alice, before the other could speak, rose up, and went out,
with Janet following.
"Janet--" cried the girl.
"If you please," said the old man, with such a decisive air that she
hesitated.


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