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James, Henry, 1843-1916

"The Chaperon"

Tramore that she probably
heard, but she floated away with a single stroke of her paddle and an
inattentive poise of her head. It was a striking exhibition of the
famous tact, for Rose delayed to answer, which was exactly what might
have made her mother wish to turn; and indeed when at last the girl
spoke she only said to her companion: "Why do you ask me that?"
"Because I desire the pleasure of making her acquaintance."
Rose had stopped, and in the middle of the square they stood looking
at each other. "Do you remember what you said to me the last time I
saw you?"
"Oh, don't speak of that!"
"It's better to speak of it now than to speak of it later."
Bertram Jay looked round him, as if to see whether any one would
hear; but the bright foreignness gave him a sense of safety, and he
unexpectedly exclaimed: "Miss Tramore, I love you more than ever!"
"Then you ought to have come to see us," declared the girl, quickly
walking on.
"You treated me the last time as if I were positively offensive to
you."
"So I did, but you know my reason."
"Because I protested against the course you were taking? I did, I
did!" the young man rang out, as if he still, a little, stuck to
that.


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