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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"

'
Cousin Monica made a sound of acquiescence--her lips closed and a nod,
frowning hard at the bars.
'It _is_ very odd!' she said; 'how people _can_ be such fools!' Here there
came a little pause. 'And what sort of person is she--do you like her?'
'Very well--that is, _pretty_ well. You won't tell?--but she rather
frightens me. I'm sure she does not intend it, but somehow I am very much
afraid of her.'
'She does not beat you?' said Cousin Monica, with an incipient frenzy in
her face that made me love her.
'Oh no!'
'Nor ill-use you in any way?'
'No.'
'Upon your honour and word, Maud?'
'No, upon my honour.'
'You know I won't tell her anything you say to me; and I only want to know,
that I may put an end to it, my poor little cousin.'
'Thank you, Cousin Monica very much; but really and truly she does not
ill-use me.'
'Nor threaten you, child?'
'Well, _no_--no, she does not threaten.'
'And how the plague _does_ she frighten you, child?'
'Well, I really--I'm half ashamed to tell you--you'll laugh at me--and I
don't know that she wishes to frighten me. But there is something, is not
there, ghosty, you know, about her?'
'_Ghosty_--is there? well, I'm sure I don't know, but I suspect there's
something devilish--I mean, she seems roguish--does not she? And I really
think she has had neither cold nor pain, but has just been shamming
sickness, to keep out of my way.


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