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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"His Hour"

"You shall certainly not,"
he said. "You cannot be so rude as deliberately to controvert your
host. It is my pleasure that you shall sit here and talk."
His eyes were flashing, and Tamara's spirit rose.
"What a savage you are, Prince," she laughed. "Everything must be only
as you wish! That I want to watch the bridge does not enter into your
consideration."
"Not a bit."
"Well, then, since I must stay here I shall be disagreeable and not say
a word."
And she sat down primly and folded her hands.
He lit a cigarette, and she noticed his hand trembled a little, but his
voice was quite steady, and in fact low as he said:
"I tell you frankly, if you go on treating me as you have done today,
whatever happens is on your head."
"Do you mean to strangle me then?--or have me torn up by dogs?" and
Tamara smiled provokingly. With all the others in the room, and almost
within earshot, she felt perfectly safe.
She had suffered so much, it seemed good to oppose him a little, when
it could not entail a duel with some unoffending man!
"I do not know yet what I shall be impelled to do, only I warn you, if
you tease me, you will pay the price." And he puffed a cloud of smoke.
"He can do nothing tonight," Tamara thought, "and tomorrow we are going
back to Moscow, and then I am returning home." A spirit of devilment
was in her. Nearly always it had been he who regulated things, and now
it was her turn.


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