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The Brass Bowl by Louis Joseph Vance
page 123 of 268 (45%)
"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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