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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Beatrice"

It seemed wonderful that all should still be just
as it was, that there should be no change at all, when he himself had
seen so much. There was Beatrice's home; where was Beatrice?
He passed into the house like a man in a dream. In another moment he
was in the long parlour where he had spent so many happy hours, and
Elizabeth was greeting him. He shook hands with her, and as he did so,
noticed vaguely that she too was utterly unchanged. Her straw-coloured
hair was pushed back from the temples in the same way, the mouth wore
the same hard smile, her light eyes shone with the same cold look; she
even wore the same brown dress. But she appeared to be very pleased to
see him, as indeed she was, for the game looked well for Elizabeth. Her
father kissed her hurriedly, and bustled from the room to lock up his
borrowed cash, leaving them together.
Somehow Geoffrey's conversational powers failed him. Where was Beatrice?
she ought to be back from school. It was holiday time indeed. Could she
be away?
He made an effort, and remarked absently that things seemed very
unchanged at Bryngelly.


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