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Johnson, Owen, 1878-1952

"Murder in Any Degree"

"
He drew a long breath charged with bitter memories and said between his
teeth, rebelling: "I always agreed."
"Can it be? Is it possible?" commented De Gollyer, carefully mastering
his expression.
Lightbody, on the new subject of his wrongs, now began to explode with
wrath.
"And there's one thing more--one thing that hurts! You know what she
eloped in? She eloped in a hat, a big red hat, three white feathers--one
hundred and seventy-five dollars. I gave up a winter suit to get it."
He strode over to the grotesquely large hat-box on the slender table,
and struck it with his fist.
"Came this morning. Jim, she waited for that hat! Now, that isn't right!
That isn't delicate!"
"No, by Jove, it certainly isn't delicate!"
"Domesticity! Ha!" At the moment, with only the long vision of petty
tyranny before him, he could have caught her up in his hands and
strangled her. "Domesticity! I've had all I want of domesticity!"
Suddenly the eternal fear awakening in him, he turned and commanded
authoritatively:
"Never tell!"
"Never!"
De Gollyer, at forty-two, showed a responsive face, invincibly, gravely
sympathetic, patiently awaiting his climax, knowing that nothing is so
cumulatively dangerous as confession.


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