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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Alcatraz"

If you won't take the money from Mr.
Hervey, I'll pay it to you myself. How much?"
"Nothing," said Red Perris.
"Are you going to give me an example of wounded virtue?" cried
Marianne, white with contempt.
He was as pale as she, and taking off his hat he began to dent and
re-dent its four sides. The girl, looking at that red shock of hair
and the lowered eyes, guessed for the first time that he was suffering
an agony of humiliation. Half of her anger instantly vanished and
remembering her passion of the moment before, she began to wonder what
she had said. In the meantime, shrugging his shoulders with a forced
indifference, Hervey crossed the patio and she was aware that he was
received in silence--no murmurs of congratulation for the manner in
which he had borne himself during the interview.
"I got to ask you to gimme about two minutes of listening, Miss
Jordan. Will you do it?"
"At least I won't stop you. Say what you please, Mr. Perris."
She wished heartily that she could have spoken with a little show of
relenting but she had committed herself to coldness. In her soul of
souls she wanted to bid him take a chair and tell her frankly all
about it, assure him that after a moment of blind anger she had never
doubted his straightforward desire to serve her.


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