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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"

But I shall leave a wife and a mother behind
me: they will both send me a kind word now and then; and I will write
letters to you all from Egypt, and when I come home, my wife and I will
make acquaintance, and we will all be happy together: and if I am killed
out there, don't you go and fret your poor little hearts about it; it
is a soldier's lot sooner or later. Besides, you will find I have taken
care of you; nobody shall come and turn you out of your quarters,
even though Jean Raynal should be dead; I have got to meet Picard at
Riviere's on that very business--I am off."
He was gone as brusquely as he came.
"Mother! sister!" cried Josephine, "help me to love this man."
"You need no help," cried the baroness, with enthusiasm, "not love him,
we should all be monsters."
Raynal came to supper looking bright and cheerful. "No more work to-day.
I have nothing to do but talk; fancy that."
This evening Josephine de Beaurepaire, who had been silent and
thoughtful, took a quiet opportunity, and purred in his ear, "Monsieur!"
"Mademoiselle!" rang the trombone.


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