The Definite Object - A Romance of New York by Jeffery Farnol
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page 50 of 497 (10%)
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total of humanity.
Something of all this was in Geoffrey Ravenslee's mind as he climbed the dingy, interminable stair behind Spike, who presently halted to get his wind and whisper: "It ain't much further now, Geoff, only another two flights and--" He stopped suddenly to listen, and from the landing above a sound reached them, a sound soft but unmistakable--a woman's muffled sobbing. Slowly, cautiously, they mounted the stair until in the dim light of a certain landing they beheld a slim figure bowed upon its knees in an agony of abasement before a scarred and dingy door. Even as they stared, the slender, girlish figure sobbed again, and, with a sudden, yearning gesture, lifted a face, pale in the half-light, and kissed that battered door; thereafter, weeping still, she rose to her feet and turned, but seeing Spike, stood very still all at once and with hands clasped tight together. "Holy Gee!" exclaimed Spike beneath his breath; then, in a hoarse whisper: "Is that Maggie--Maggie Finlay?" "Oh--is that you, Arthur?" she whispered back. "Arthur--oh, Arthur, I, I'm going away, but I couldn't go without coming to--to kiss dear mother good-by--and now I'm here I daren't knock for fear of--father. I've been up to your door and knocked, but Hermy's away, I guess. Anyway, you--you'll say I came to thank her and--kiss her for the last time, won't you, Arthur?" "Sure I will--but where ye goin', Maggie?" |
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