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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Rose in the Ring"


"You--you're going down to see that I do make an end of it?" he cried.
"I want to be sure, for Christine's sake," she said, quite steadily.
He was glaring at her now. "Oh, I see. You don't trust me," he
exclaimed bitterly. He put out his hand to steady himself against the
library table. "I can't say that I blame you, either. But I won't stay
here. I would, if it would do any good, but how can it? The police are
likely to pile in here any minute with a warrant for me. That would be
fine, wouldn't it?" He strode to the window and tried to look through
the passage into the street. "I don't want to be pinched now. Go and
look out of the front windows--go on! See if there's any one out
there."
She did not move.
"Ain't you going to look?" he demanded.
"The police?" dropped from her lips dully. She had overlooked the
danger from that direction, although her mind had been so full of it a
little while before. "He won't send them here, Tom--"
"Of course, he will," he broke in irascibly. "He's crazy mad, and
he'll act quickly to head off Jenison's warrant. I can't stay here--
not another minute.


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