Page:Frank Spearman--Whispering Smith.djvu/357

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A Midnight Visit

She stood with wide-open eyes, but uttered no word.

“You won’t touch it—then you care a little for me yet,” he murmured.

“No! Do not say so. But I will not do murder.”

“Think about the other, then. Go with me and everything will be all right. I will come back some evening soon for my answer. And until then, if those two men have any use for life, let them keep in the clear. I heard to-night that Du Sang is killed. Do you know whether it is true?”

“It is true.”

An oath half escaping showed how the confirmation cut him. “And Whispering Smith got away! It is Du Sang’s own fault; I told him to keep out of that trap. I stay in the open; and I’m not Du Sang. I’ll choose my own ground for the finish when they want it with me, and when I go I’ll take company—I’ll promise you that. Good-night, Marion. Will you shake hands?”

“No.”

“Damn it, I like your grit, girl! Well, good-night, anyway.”

She closed the door. She had even strength enough to bolt it before his footsteps died away. She put out the light and felt her way blindly back to the work-room. She staggered through it,

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