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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"


"I'm not coming. I've been seeing too much of you as it is. If
you want the truth, I'm just wretchedly unhappy, Natalie. You know
I'm in love with you, don't you?"
"I believe you think you are."
"Don't laugh." He almost snarled. "I may laugh at my idiocy, but
you haven't any right to. I know I'm ridiculous. I've known it
for months. But it's pretty serious for me."
He had meant it. There could be no doubt of that. It is the
curious quality of very selfish women that they inspire a certain
sort of love. They are likely to be loved often, even tho the
devotion they inspire is neither deep nor lasting. Big and
single-hearted women are loved by one man, and that forever.
Natalie had not laughed, but she had done what was almost as bad.
She had patted him on the arm.
"Don't talk like that," she said, gently. "You are all I have now,
Rodney, and I don't want to lose you. I'm suffering horribly these
days. You're my greatest comfort."
"I've heard you say that of a chair.


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