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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"No Name"

You young jade, you've
committed burglary--that's what you've done. His honor the admiral's
keys stolen; his honor the admiral's desk ransacked; and his honor the
admiral's private letters broke open. Burglary! Burglary! Come and be
locked up!" He slowly recovered an upright position, with the assistance
of his hands, backed by the solid resisting power of the bureau; and
lapsed into lachrymose soliloquy. "Who'd have thought it?" said old
Mazey, paternally watering at the eyes. "Take the outside of her, and
she's as straight as a poplar; take the inside of her, and she's as
crooked as Sin. Such a fine-grown girl, too. What a pity! what a pity!"
"Don't hurt me!" said Magdalen, faintly, as old Mazey staggered up
to the chair, and took her by the wrist again. "I'm frightened, Mr.
Mazey--I'm dreadfully frightened."
"Hurt you?" repeated the veteran. "I'm a deal too fond of you--and more
shame for me at my age!--to hurt you. If I let go of your wrist, will
you walk straight before me, where I can see you all the way? Will you
be a good girl, and walk straight up to your own door?"
Magdalen gave the promise required of her--gave it with an eager longing
to reach the refuge of her room.


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