The Brass Bowl by Louis Joseph Vance
page 123 of 268 (45%)
page 123 of 268 (45%)
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"Go on."
"Last night, Dan"--she raised her glorious eyes to his--"last night, I ... I trusted you." His face hardened ever so slightly; yet when he took thought the tense lines about his eyes and mouth softened. And she drew a deep breath, knowing that she had all but won. "I trusted you," she continued softly. "Do you know what that means? I trusted _you_." He nodded, eyes to hers, fascinated, with an odd commingling of fear and hope and satisfied self-love. "Now I am unconnected with the affair. No one knows that I had any hand in it. Besides, no one knows me--that I--steal." Her tone fell lower. "The police have never heard of me. Dan!" "I--believe----" "I could get away," she interrupted; "and then, if they stopped you----" "You're right, by the powers!" He struck the table smartly with his fist. "You do that and we can carry this through. Why, lacking the jewels, I _am_ Maitland--I am even wearing Maitland's clothes!" he boasted. "I went to his apartments this morning and saw to that, because it suited my purpose to _be_ Maitland for a day or two." "Then----?" Her gaze questioned his. "Waiter!" cried Anisty. And, when the man was deferential at his elbow: |
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