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The Man from Brodney's by George Barr McCutcheon
page 52 of 398 (13%)

"Deppy," she said after a moment, "I hope I was not too hard on the poor
fellow."

"Perhaps you won't be so nervous if you sit down and look at the sea,"
he said gently, and she immediately knew that he suggested it because he
expected a tragedy in the opposite direction. She dropped Pong without
another word, and, her face quite serious, seated herself upon the big
trunk which he selected. He sat down beside her, and together they
watched the long line of smoke far out at sea.

They expected every minute to hear the shouts of assassins and the
screams of the brave Mr. Saunders. Their apprehensions were sensibly
increased by the mysterious actions of the half-naked loiterers. They
seemed to consult among themselves for some time after the departure of
the clerk, and then, to the horror of the servants, made off in various
directions, more than one of them handling his ugly kris in an ominous
manner. Bromley was not slow to acquaint his lordship with these
movements. Deppingham felt a cold chill shoot up his spine, and he
cleared his throat as if to shout after the disappearing steamer. But he
maintained a brave front, or, more correctly, a brave back, for he
refused to encourage the maid's fears by turning around.

It was broiling hot in the sun, but no one thought of the white
umbrellas. Saunders was the epitome of every thought.

"Here he comes!" shouted the valet, joyously forgetting his station. His
lordship still stared at the sea. Lady Deppingham's little jaws were
shut tight and her fingers were clenched desperately in the effort to
maintain the proper dignity before her servants.
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