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Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Deluge"


"Your daughter is of age, madam," said I. "She will go where she pleases.
And I warn you that you are deceived by the Langdons. I am not powerless,
and"--here I let her have a full look into my red-hot furnaces of wrath--"I
stop at nothing in pursuing those who oppose me--at nothing!"
Anita, staring at her mother's awful face, was shrinking and trembling
as if before the wicked, pale-yellow eyes and quivering, outstretched
tentacles of a devil-fish. Clinging to my arm, she let me guide her to the
door. Her mother recovered speech. "Anita!" she cried. "What are you doing?
Are you mad?"
"I think I must be out of my mind," said Anita. "But, if you try to keep me
here, I shall tell him all--_all_."
Her voice suggested that she was about to go into hysterics. I gently urged
her forward. There was some sort of woman's wrap in the hall. I put it
round her. Before she--or I--realized it, she was in my waiting electric.
"Up town," I said to my man.
She tried to get out.
"Oh, what have I done! What am I doing!" she cried, her courage oozing
away. "Let me out--please!"
"You are going with me," said I, entering and closing the door. I saw the
door of the Ellersly mansion opening, saw old Ellersly, bareheaded and
distracted, scuttling down the steps.


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