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Walcott, Earle Ashley, 1859-1931

"Blindfolded"

Knapp,
and made my escape as some one stopped to pass a word with her.
"Oh, must you go, Henry?" said Mrs. Knapp. "Well, you must come again
soon. We miss you when you stay away. Don't let Mr. Knapp keep you too
closely."
I professed myself happy to come whenever I could find the time, and
looked about for Luella. She was nowhere to be seen. I left the room a
little disappointed, but with a swelling of pride that I had passed the
dreaded ordeal and had been accepted as Henry Wilton in the house in
which I had most feared to meet disaster. My opinion of my own
cleverness had risen, in the language of the market, "above par."
As I passed down the hall, a tall willowy figure stepped from the
shadow of the stair. My heart gave a bound of delight. It was Luella
Knapp. I should have the pleasure of a leave-taking in private.
"Oh, Miss Knapp!" I said. "I had despaired of having the chance to bid
you good night." And I held out my hand.
She ignored the hand. I could see from her heaving bosom and shortened
breath that she was laboring under great agitation. Yet her face gave
no evidence of the effort that it cost her to control herself.
"I was waiting for you," she said in a low voice.
I started to express my gratification when she interrupted me.
"Who are you?" broke from her lips almost fiercely.
I was completely taken aback, and stared at her in amazement with no
word at command.
"You are not Henry Wilton," she said rapidly.


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