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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"Greatheart"

You don't
want her, do you?"
"No," said Isabel. "I want Scott."
"You can't have Scott to-night." There was absolute decision in his
voice. "It is essential that he should get a rest. He looked ready to
drop to-night."
"Ah! You think me selfish!" she said, catching her breath.
He sat down by her side. "No," he answered quietly. "But I think you have
not the least idea how much he spends himself upon you. If you had, you
would be shocked."
She moved restlessly. "You don't understand," she said. "You never
understand. Eustace, I wish you would go away."
"I will go in half an hour," he made calm rejoinder, "if you have not
moved during that time."
"You know that is impossible;" she said.
"Very well then. I shall remain." His jaw set itself in a fashion that
brought it into heavy prominence.
"You will stay all night?" she questioned quickly.
"If necessary," he answered.
Biddy had turned the lamp very low. The faint radiance shone upon him as
he sat imparting a certain mysterious force to his dominant outline. He
looked as immovable as an image carved in stone.
A great shiver went through Isabel. "You want to see me suffer," she
said.
"You are wrong," he returned inflexibly. "But I would sooner see you
suffer than give yourself up to a habit which is destroying you by
inches. It is no kindness on Scott's part to let you do it."
"Don't talk of Scott!" she said quickly.


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