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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"


"It was an accident, Clay," she pled. "You know Graham's the
kindest soul in the world. You know that, Clay."
"He had been drinking." His voice sounded cold and strained to his
own ears.
"Not much. Almost nothing, Toots says positively."
"Then I'd rather he had been, Natalie. If he drove that ball out
of wanton indifference - "
"He didn't see the boy."
"He should have looked."
In her anger she ceased her sibilant whispering, and stood erect.
"I told him you'd be hard," she said. "He's outside, half-sick
with fright, because he is afraid. Afraid of you," she added, and
went out, her silks rustling in the quiet corridor.
She had gone away soon after that, the nurse informed him. And
toward dawn Clayton left Audrey in the sick room and found Graham.
He was asleep in a chair in the waiting-room, and looked boyish and
very tired. Clayton's heart contracted.
He went back to his vigil, and let Graham sleep on.
Some time later he roused from a doze in his chair.


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