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

"Greatheart"

"
"Your people?" His hand was drawing her now with an insistent pressure
that would not be denied. "They'd probably dance on their heads with
delight," he said, his tone one of slightly supercilious humour. "I
assure you I am considered something of a catch by a good many anxious
mammas."
She started at that, started and straightened herself, lifting shy eyes
to his. "Oh, but we've only been--playing," she said rather uncertainly.
"Just--just pretending to flirt, that's all."
He laughed, bending his handsome, imperious face to hers. "It's been a
fairly solid pretence, hasn't it?" he said. "But I'm proposing something
slightly different now. I'm offering you my hand--as well as my heart."
Dinah was trembling all over. She gasped for breath, drawing back
slightly from the nearness of his lips. "Do you mean--you'd like--to
marry me?" she whispered tremulously, and hid her face on the instant;
for the bald words sounded preposterous.
He laughed again, softly, half-mockingly, and drew her into his arms.
"Whatever made you think of that, my elf of the mountains? I'll vow it
came into your head first. Ah, you needn't hide your eyes from me. I know
you're mine--all mine. I've known it from the first--ever since you began
to run away. But I've caught you now. Haven't I? Haven't I?"
She clung to him desperately. It seemed the only way; for she was for the
moment swept off her feet, terribly afraid of arousing that storm of
passion which had so overwhelmed her the night before.


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