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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Arms and the Woman"


The innkeeper, a puzzling smile on his lips, passed out.
"Gretchen," I burst forth, "in heaven's name what does this mean? I
have hunted for you day after day, week after week, month after month.
I have traveled the four ends of the continent. I have lived--Oh, I do
not know how I have lived! And when I do find you, it is for this!"
My voice broke, and I was positively on the verge of tears.
"And was all this fair to her?" asked Gretchen, coldly.
"To her? I do not understand."
"I mean, was all this fair to my sister?"
"Gretchen," a light piercing the darkness, "has she not written to you?"
"A long time ago. She wanted to see me on an important matter, but I
could not change my plans at the time. I shall see her at the palace
next week. Ought you not to be with her instead of here?"
"Why should I be with her?"
Gretchen laughed, but the key was false.
"Are you not going to marry her? Surely, it is easy after the King has
given his permission. Have you already fallen out of love with her,
after all your efforts to make her a Princess? Truly, man is as
unstable as sand and water! Ah, but you fooled us all to the top of
our bent.


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