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Wylie, I. A. R. (Ida Alexa Ross), 1885-1959

"The Dark House"

Scared stiff, I was. Tried to make me
swear I'd marry him and start for Timbuctoo to-morrow, and when I
wouldn't, wanted to shoot himself and me too--as though I'd made a muck
of things. Well, I'd done my best, and when it came to that sort of
sob-stuff I'd had enough. What's he take me for? Get me into trouble
with my landlady--making a row like that."
Robert heard her out in silence, and his intent, expressionless scrutiny
seemed to flick her on the raw. She stamped her foot at him. "Oh, for
the Lord's sake, get a move on---do something, can't you? I didn't come
here to be stared at as though I were a disease!"
"Where is he?"
"If I knew----! My place probably--with the gas full on--committing
suicide--making a rotten scandal. You've got to come and dig him out."
"Where do you live?"
"Ten minutes from here. 10E Stanton Place. I'll show you a short way.
I ran like a hare, hoping I'd catch you, and you'd put a bit of sense
into the poor looney's head. Serves me right--taking on with his sort."
"Well--we'd better hurry," Robert said.
"Thanks. I said I'd show you the way. I'm not coming in. Don't you
believe it. I've had enough. All I ask is--get him out and keep him
out."
"You're through with him?"
Her habitual good-natured gaiety was gone. She looked disrupted and
savagely afraid, like an animal that has escaped capture by a frantic
effort. And yet it was difficult to imagine Rufus Cosgrave capturing or
frightening anyone.


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