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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"

I tell you it is some wicked woman's doing. He loved me once."
"Not so loud!--one word: you are a wife. Swear to me you will not let
him see you, come what may."
"Oh! never! never!" cried Josephine with terror. "I would rather die.
When you have heard what he has to say, then tell him I am dead. No,
tell him I adore my husband, and went to Egypt this day with him. Ah!
would to God I had!"
"Sh! sh!"
"Sh!"
Camille was at the little gate.
Rose stood still, and nerved herself in silence. Josephine panted in her
hiding-place.
Rose's only thought now was to expose the traitor to her sister, and
restore her peace. She pretended not to see Camille till he was near
her. He came eagerly towards her, his pale face flushing with great joy,
and his eyes like diamonds.
"Josephine! It is not Josephine, after all," said he. "Why, this must be
Rose, little Rose, grown up to a fine lady, a beautiful lady."
"What do you come here for, sir?" asked Rose in a tone of icy
indifference.
"What do I come here for? is that the way to speak to me? but I am too
happy to mind.


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