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Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Price She Paid"

No one else
knows the truth--not even Mrs. Brindley, though she's
intelligent. I take back what I said about your being
cowardly. Oh, you do stab my vanity so! You
mustn't mind my crying out. I can't help it--at
least, not till I get used to you.''
``Cry out,'' said he. ``It does no harm.''
``How wonderfully you understand me!'' exclaimed
she. ``That's why I let you say to me anything you
please.''
He was smiling peculiarly--a smile that somehow
made her feel uncomfortable. She nerved herself for
some still deeper stab into her vanity. He said, his gaze
upon her and ironical:
``I'm sorry I can't return the compliment.''
``What compliment?'' asked she.
``Can't say that you understand me. Why do you
think I am doing this?''
She colored. ``Oh, no indeed, Mr. Keith,'' she
protested, ``I don't think you are in love with me--or
anything of that sort. Indeed, I do not. I know you
better than that.''
``Really?'' said he, amused. ``Then you are not
human.''
``How can you think me so vain?'' she protested.


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