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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"


"What determination?"
"To sacrifice me to this Colonel Dujardin." Still politely, only a
little grimly.
Rose opened her eyes. "Are you mad?" inquired she with quiet hauteur.
"Neither mad nor a fool," was the reply. "I love you too well to share
your regard with any one, upon any terms; least of all upon these, that
there is to be a man in the world at whose beck and call you are to
be, and at whose orders you are to break off an interview with me.
Perdition!"
"Dear Edouard, what folly! Can you suspect me of discourtesy, as well as
of--I know not what. Colonel Dujardin will join us, that is all, and we
shall take a little walk with him."
"Not I. I decline the intrusion; you are engaged with me, and I have
things to say to you that are not fit for that puppy to hear. So choose
between me and him, and choose forever."
Rose colored. "I should be very sorry to choose either of you forever;
but for this afternoon I choose you."
"Oh, thank you--my whole life shall prove my gratitude for this
preference."
Rose beckoned Jacintha, and sent her with an excuse to Colonel Dujardin.


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