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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Mary Marston"


"Pooh! is that all?" returned Miss Yolland. "If there were
anybody you wanted--then I grant!"
"Sepia!" said Hesper, almost entreatingly, "I can not bear to be
teased to-day. Do be open with me. You always puzzle me so! I
don't understand you a bit better than the first day you came to
us. I have got used to you--that is all. Tell me--are you my
friend, or are you in league with mamma? I have my doubts. I
can't help it, Sepia."
She looked in her face pitifully. Miss Yolland looked at her
calmly, as if waiting for her to finish.
"I thought you would--not help me," Hesper went on, "--that no
one can except God--he could strike me dead; but I did think you
would feel for me a little. I hate Mr. Redmain, and I loathe
myself. If _you_ laugh at me, I shall take poison."
"I wouldn't do that," returned Miss Yolland, quite gravely, and
as if she had already contemplated the alternative; "--that is,
not so long as there was a turn of the game left."
"The game!" echoed Hesper. "--Playing for love with the devil!--I
wish the game were yours, as you call it!"
"Mine I'd make it, if I had it to play," returned Sepia. "I wish
I were the other player instead of you, but the man hates me.
Some men do.--Come," she went on, "I will be open with you,
Hesper; you don't hang for thoughts in England. I will tell you
what I would do with a man I hated--that is, if I was compelled
to marry him; it would hardly be fair otherwise, and I have a
weakness for fair play.


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