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Pedler, Margaret, -1948

"The Vision of Desire"

"
"How?" Her voice was almost inaudible.
"Why, then, I should simply have steamed away with my honoured guest on
board. After a day or two's trip at sea, I think there'd be no question Ann
would accept me as her husband. The position would be an even more awkward
one than her predicament at the Dents de Loup. Her presence on the yacht
could hardly be explained away as an--accident"--significantly. "But I
preferred my first plan--it entailed less publicity"--with a short laugh.
Cara sprang up, her eyes blazing. In the torrent of scorn and anger which
swept over her at his duplicity--at the nonchalant recital of it all--the
embarrassment of her own situation was temporarily lost sight of.
"Brett, I think you must be absolutely devoid of any sense of right or
wrong! I never heard of anything more utterly fiendish and heartless in the
whole of my life. Have you _no_ conscience, _no_ decent feeling, that you
could plot and plan to ruin a woman's happiness as you would have ruined
Ann's? Oh! It's unbelievable! I think you must be a devil incarnate!"
He rose too, his eyes smouldering dangerously. The veneer of polished
mockery had dropped from him suddenly.
"I'm not.


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