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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Arms and the Woman"


But say the word."
He knew what my reply would be. "Withdraw," said I, "and have you
laugh at me and tell your friends that I acted the poltroon? Really,
you do me injustice."
"And do you hate me so very much?" mockery in his eyes.
"Not now. I did hate you, but hatred is a thing we should not waste
any more than love. I have taken the bird and the nest from your
hands; that is more than enough. You are merely an object for scorn
and contempt and indifference now. No; I have no wish to withdraw."
"You read between the lines," he said. "Indeed, I should like nothing
better than to have the privilege of calling you a poltroon and a
coward and to tell your Princess of it." He sauntered back to his
place leisurely.
"Aim the slightest to the left," whispered Pembroke; "the wind will
carry it home."
I pressed his hand. A moment later I stood facing the Prince. I
lifted the pistol and fired. Had the Prince been ten feet to the right
he must have been hit. I threw the smoking pistol aside, let my arms
fall and waited. I could see that Pembroke was biting his lip to hide
his anxiety and disappointment.


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