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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"

You owe it to me to let me do it."
She was not hard to persuade. Anything was better than going back
to the cottage on the hill, and to that heavy brooding figure, and
the strap on the wall. But the taking of the money marked a new
epoch in the girl's infatuation. It bought her. She did not know
it, nor did he. But hitherto she had been her own, earning her own
livelihood. What she gave of love, of small caresses and intimacies,
had been free gifts.
From that time she was his creature. In her creed, which was the
creed of the girls on the hill, one did not receive without giving.
She would pay him back, but all that she had to give was herself.
"You'll come to see me, too. Won't you?"
The tingling was very noticeable now. He felt warm, and young, and
very, very strong.
"Of course I'll come to see you," he said, recklessly. "You take a
little time off - you've worked hard - and we'll play round together."
She bent down, unexpectedly, and put her bruised cheek against his
hand, as it lay on the table.


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