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Hornung, E. W. (Ernest William), 1866-1921

"A Thief in the Night: a Book of Raffles' Adventures"

He
consented at last as a lesser evil than talking of the burglary in
the street; and in my rooms I told him of his late danger and my
own dilemma, of the few words I had overheard in the beginning, of
the thin ice on which he had cut fancy figures without a crack. It
was all. very well for him. He had never realized his peril. But
let him think of me - listening, watching, yet unable to lift a
finger - unable to say one warning word.
Raffles suffered me to finish, but a weary sigh followed the last
symmetrical whiff of a Sullivan which he flung into my fire before
he spoke.
"No, I won't have another, thank you. I'm going to talk to you,
Bunny. Do you really suppose I didn't see through these wiseacres
from the first?"
I flatly refused to believe he had done so before that evening. Why
had he never mentioned his idea to me? It had been quite the other
way, as I indignantly reminded Raffles. Did he mean me to believe
he was the man to thrust his head into the lion's mouth for fun?
And what point would there be in dragging me there to see the fun?
"I might have wanted you, Bunny.


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