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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"

He was gaining a tremendous
ascendency over her father, she knew. Herman was spending more and
more of his evenings away from home, creaking up the stairs late at
night, shoes in hand, to undress in the cold darkness across the hall.
"Out?" she asked Katie, sitting by the fire with the evening paper.
Conversation in the cottage was almost always laconic.
"Ate early," Katie returned. "Rudolph was here, too. I'm going to
quit if I've got to cook for that sneak any longer. You'd think he
had a meal ticket here. Your supper's on the stove."
"I'm not hungry." She ate her supper, however, and undressed by the
fire. Then she went up-stairs and sat by her window in the gathering
night. She was suffering acutely. Graham was tired of her. He
wanted to get rid of her. Probably he had a girl somewhere else, a
lady. Her idea of the life of such a girl had been gathered from
novels.
"The sort that has her breakfast in bed," she muttered, "and has her
clothes put on her by somebody.


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