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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"The New Magdalen"


"Horace tells me you have been abroad," she said. "Did you enjoy
your holiday?"
"It was no holiday. I went abroad because I thought it right to
make certain inquiries--" He stopped there, unwilling to return
to a subject that was painful to her.
Her v oice sank, her fingers trembled round the ball of wool; but
she managed to go on.
"Did you arrive at any results?" she asked.
"At no results worth mentioning."
The caution of that reply renewed her worst suspicions of him. In
sheer despair, she spoke out plainly.
"I want to know your opinion--" she began.
"Gently!" said Julian. "You are entangling the wool again."
"I want to know your opinion of the person who so terribly
frightened me. Do you think her--"
"Do I think her--what?"
"Do you think her an adventuress?"
(As she said those words the branches of a shrub in the
conservatory were noiselessly parted by a hand in a black glove.
The face of Grace Roseberry appeared dimly behind the leaves.
Undiscovered, she had escaped from the billiard-room, and had
stolen her way into the conservatory as the safer hiding-place of
the two. Behind the shrub she could see as well as listen.


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