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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"


"Silly asses!" said Graham, again, and then she saw him. There was
no question about her being pleased. She was quite flushed with it,
but a little uncomfortable, too, at Graham's attitude. He was
oddly humble, and yet he had a look of determination that was almost
grim. She filled in a rather disquieting silence by trying to let
him know, without revealing that she had ever been anything else,
how proud she was of him. Then she realized that he was not
listening, and that he was looking at her with an almost painful
intensity.
"When can you get away, Delight?" he asked abruptly.
"From here?" She cast an appraising glance over the room. "Right
away, I think. Why?"
"Because I want to talk to you, and I can't talk to you here."
She brought a bright colored sweater and he helped her into it,
still with his mouth set and his eyes a trifle sunken. All about
there were laughing groups of men in uniform. Outside, the parade
glowed faintly in the dusk, and from the low barrack windows there
came the glow of lights, the movement of young figures, voices,
the thin metallic notes of a mandolin.


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