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Walcott, Earle Ashley, 1859-1931

"Blindfolded"

"
"All?"
"Everything."
In another moment I know not what I should have done, so stirred and
tempted was I by her tone and look. But in an instant her manner
changed, and she exclaimed in a mocking voice:
"Now I have your promise, so I'll let you go. You'd better not linger,
or mama will certainly have some business to talk over with you." And
before I could touch her hand she was gone, and her laughing "good
night" echoed down the hall.
I was puzzled by these changes of mood, and decided that Luella Knapp
was a most unaccountable young woman. And then there dashed over me a
sickening realization of what I had done, of what I had promised, and
of how impossible it was that I should ever reveal to her the secret I
guarded. I cursed the mad folly and crime of her father, for they stood
between her and me. Yet under the subtle influence that she cast upon
me I felt the bonds of duty relaxed and slipping away. I had now to
confess to myself that I loved Luella Knapp. And she? I hoped and
feared, and ran over in my mind every incident of my later visits that
might tell in what regard I was held--the tones, the words, the manner,
that ran from deep interest to indifference. And trying to untangle the
skein, I was a good deal startled to feel a touch on my arm as I
reached the sidewalk.
"Oh, it's you, Porter, is it?" I exclaimed, on recognizing my retainer.
"Is Barkhouse here?"
"Yes, sir. An' here's Wilson with a message for you.


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