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Gregory, Jackson, 1882-1943

"Under Handicap A Novel"

"You see, my
object seemed so clear-cut and simple--and now gets itself all
tangled up in complexity when I try to explain it to you. For one
thing, ever since my first night on the Half Moon when Brayley put me
out I have felt that it was up to me to finish what was begun that
night. For another thing, I was trying to prove a theory, I imagine! I
didn't really believe that Brayley was the better man. And lastly, and
perhaps most important of all, I told you the other day that I was
going to lick him. It was a sort of promise, you know!"
She sat with her elbow upon her knee, her chin on her hand, her eyes
lost in the shadow of her hair. He knew that she was regarding him
intently. He guessed from the line of her cheek, from the slightly
upturned curve at the corner of her mouth, that she was half inclined
to be serious, and almost ready to smile at him.
"You are inclined to look upon Brayley as an enemy?" was all that she
said, still watching him closely.
"No!" he cried, warmly. "I sneered at him the other day, I know. Like
the little poppinjay I was I thought myself in the position to poke
fun at him. To-day I got my first true idea of the man's nature.
To-day I found out--can you guess what I found out? That Brayley in
many things is just like--whom, do you suppose?"
"Tell me."
"Like you! The discovery was a shock. It nearly bowled me over.


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