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The Sowers by Henry Seton Merriman
page 51 of 461 (11%)
looking down. He could only see the beautifully dressed hair, the
clean-cut profile. She continued to look into the fire, conscious of the
hand close to her shoulder.

"No, my friend," she repeated. "We know each other too well for that. It
would never do."

"But when I tell you that I love you," he said quietly, with his voice
well in control.

"I did not know that the word was in your vocabulary--you, a diplomat."

"And a man--you put the word there--Etta."

The hand-screen was raised for a moment in objection--presumably to the
Christian name of which he had made use.

He waited; passivity was one of his strong points. It had frightened men
before this.

Then, with a graceful movement, she swung suddenly round in her chair,
looking up at him. She broke into a merry laugh.

"I believe you are actually in earnest!" she cried.

He looked quietly down into her face without moving a muscle in response
to her change of humor.

"Very clever," he said.

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