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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"Dope"

" He strove in vain
to banish bitterness from his voice. "You are a 'star,' and your
photograph is to be seen frequently in the smartest illustrated
papers. You are clever and beautiful and have hosts of admirers. But--
are you satisfied?"
She stared absently at the silk tassel, twirling it about her white
fingers more and more rapidly. Then:
"No," she answered softly.
Monte Irvin hesitated for a moment ere bending forward and grasping
her hands.
"I am glad you are not satisfied," he whispered. "I always knew you
had a soul for something higher--better."
She avoided his ardent gaze, but he moved to the settee beside her and
looked into the bewitching face.
"Would it be a great sacrifice to give it all up?" he whispered in a
yet lower tone.
Rita shook her head, persistently staring at the tassel.
"For me?"
She gave him a swift, half-frightened glance, pressing her hands
against his breast and leaning, back.
"Oh, you don't know me--you don't know me!" she said, the good that
was in her touched to life by the man's sincerity. "I--don't deserve
it."
"Rita!" he murmured. "I won't hear you say that!"
"You know nothing about my friends--about my life--"
"I know that I want you for my wife, so that I can protect you from
those 'friends.


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