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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"

"
"That is enough: since you will not tell me, I will find it out before I
am a week older."
This alarmed Rose terribly, and drove her to extremities. She decided to
quarrel.
"Sir," said she, "I thank you for playing the tyrant a little
prematurely; it has put me on my guard. Let us part; you and I are not
suited to each other, Edouard Riviere."
He took this more humbly than she expected. "Part!" said he, in
consternation; "that is a terrible word to pass between you and me.
Forgive me! I suppose I am jealous."
"You are; you are actually jealous of my sister. Well, I tell you
plainly I love you, but I love my sister better. I never could love any
man as I do her; it is ridiculous to expect such a thing."
"And do you think I could bear to play second fiddle to her all my
life?"
"I don't ask you. Go and play first trumpet to some other lady."
"You speak your wishes so plainly now, I have nothing to do but to
obey."
He kissed her hand and went away disconsolately.
Rose, instead of going to Josephine, her determination to do which had
mainly caused the quarrel, sat sadly down, and leaned her head on her
hand.


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