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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"

"He hasn't any
business locking me in, I won't stand for it."
"You've been out."
"No!"
"Out - after him!"
"Honest to God, Rudolph, no. I hate him. I don't ever want to
see him again."
He put a hand out into the darkness, and finding her, tried to draw
her to him. She struggled, and he released her. All at once she
knew that he was weak with fright. The bravado had died out of him.
The face she had touched was covered with a clammy sweat.
"I wish to God Herman would come."
"What d' you want with him?"
"Have you got any whisky?"
"You've had enough of that stuff."
Some one was walking along the street outside. She felt that he
was listening, crouched ready to run; but the steps went on.
"Look here, Anna," he said, when he had pulled himself together
again. "I'm going to get out of this. I'm going away."
"All right. You can go for all of me."
"D'you mean to say you've been asleep all night? You didn't hear
anything?"
"Hear what?"
He laughed.


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