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

"Greatheart"

What
is it? Fire away!"
Scott puffed at his cigarette. "You won't like it," he observed. "But
it's got to be said. Look here, Eustace! It's all very well to be in
love. But you're carrying it too far. The child's downright afraid of
you."
"Has she told you so?" demanded Eustace. A hot gleam suddenly shone in
his blue eyes. He looked down at Scott with a frown.
Scott shook his head. "If she had, I shouldn't tell you so. But the fact
remains. You're a bit of an ogre, you know, always have been. Slack off a
bit, there's a good fellow! You'll find it's worth it."
He spoke with the utmost gentleness, but there was determination in his
quiet eyes. Having spoken, he turned them upon the garden again and
resumed his cigarette.
There fell a brief silence between them. Sir Eustace was no longer
smoking. His frown had deepened. Suddenly he laid his hand upon Scott's
shoulder.
"It's my turn now," he said. "I've something to say to you."
"Well?" said Scott. He stiffened a little at the hold upon him, but he
did not attempt to frustrate it.
"Only this." Eustace pressed upon him as one who would convey a warning.
"You've interfered with me more than once lately, and I've borne with
it--more or less patiently. But I'm not going to bear with it much
longer. You may be useful to me, but--you're not indispensable. Remember
that!"
Scott started at the words, as a well-bred horse starts at the flicker of
the whip.


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