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White, Stewart Edward, 1873-1946

"The Rules of the Game"

"The more
money I make, the more good I'll do--that's a brand new idea for you!"
He rose to his feet, slowly, and stood for a moment lost in thought.
Then he looked down at her, a fresh admiration shining in his eyes.
"Yours is the inspiration and the insight--as always," he said humbly.
"It has always been so. I have seemed to myself to have blundered and
stumbled, groping for a way; and you have flown, swift as a shining
arrow, straight to the mark."
"No, no, no, no!" she disclaimed, coming close to him in the vigour of
her denial. "You are unfair."
She looked up into his face, and somehow in the earnestness of her
disclaimer, the feminine soul of her rose to her eyes, so that again Bob
saw the tender, appealing helplessness, and once more there arose to
full tide in his breast the answering tenderness that would care for her
and guard her from the rough jostling of the world. The warmth of her
young body tingled in recollection along his arm, and then, strangely
enough, without any other direct cause whatever, the tide rose higher to
flood his soul. He drew her to him, crushing her to his breast.


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