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Stevenson, Burton Egbert, 1872-1962

"The Gloved Hand"


Then I shook myself together. The fact that our plot was really
moving, that Swain was in the enemy's country, so to speak, gave the
affair a finality which it had lacked before. It was too late now to
hesitate or turn back; we must press forward. I felt as though, after
a long period of uncertainty, war had been declared and the advance
definitely begun. So it was with a certain sense of relief that I
turned away, walked slowly back to the house, and sat down again upon
the porch to wait.
Now waiting is seldom a pleasant or an easy thing, and I found it that
night most unpleasant and uneasy. For, before long, doubts began to
crowd upon me--doubts of the wisdom of the course I had subscribed to.
It would have been wiser, I told myself, if it had been I, and not
Swain, who had gone to the rendezvous; wiser still, perhaps, to have
sought an interview openly, and to have made sure of the facts before
seeming to encourage what might easily prove to be a girl's more or
less romantic illusions. A midnight interview savoured too much of
melodrama to appeal to a middle-aged lawyer like myself, however great
its appeal might be to youthful lovers.


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