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The Pagans by Arlo Bates
page 20 of 246 (08%)

"All's well that ends well," returned the sculptor, sufficiently
recovering his self-control to speak lightly; "only don't run such a
risk another time."

"Oh, I assure you," she replied, "I do not make my vases either to
break my head or to be broken themselves. I shall take better care of
this one, you may be confident."

"I was more concerned for yourself than for the vase."

"For myself it really does not so much matter."

"It is scarcely kind to your friends to say so."

"Oh,--my friends!"

Over her face came an inexplicable expression, which might be gloom or
exultation, and the tone in which she spoke was equally difficult of
interpretation. She seemed determined, however, to fall into no snares
of speech; she smiled upon the sculptor with a glance at once radiant
and perplexing.

She turned towards the new vase and began slowly to whirl the
modeling-stand upon which Herman had placed it. A thousand reflections
danced and flickered about the little room as it revolved in the
sunlight, glowing and glittering like the sparkles from a carcanet of
jewels. The fiery monsters seemed to twine and coil in living motion as
the light shone upon their emerald and golden scales and bristling
spines.
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