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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Bars of Iron"

He had as it were withdrawn beyond her ken.
"Is it to be only make-believe?" she asked at last.
"Just that," he said, but she thought his voice rang hard as he said it.
An odd little tremor went through her. She put her hand up to her throat.
"Piers, I don't know--I am afraid--" She broke off in agitation.
He leaned towards her. "Don't be afraid!" he said. "There is
nothing so damning as fear. Shall we go up to her now? I promised I
wouldn't be long."
She rose. He was still standing close to her, so close that she felt the
warmth of his body, heard the sharp indrawing of his breath.
For one sick second she thought he would snatch her to him; but the
second passed and he had not moved.
"Shall we go?" he said again. "And I say, can you put me up? I don't care
where I sleep. Any sort of shakedown will do. That sofa--" he glanced
towards the one by the window upon which Jeanie had been wont to lie.
"If you like," Avery said.
She felt that the power to refuse him had left her. He would do as he
thought fit.
They went upstairs together, and she saw Jeanie's face light up as they
entered. Piers was behind. Coming forward, he slipped a confident hand
through Avery's arm. She felt his fingers close upon her warningly,
checking her slight start; and she knew with an odd mixture of relief and
dismay that this was the beginning of the game.


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