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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

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She was more affectionate and
more effusive to him than usual, and it was with a kiss that she
whispered,
"Give me the money, not the necklace."
"The money?" he said in surprise.
"Yes, to do what I like with. At least give me your promise to do what I
ask with it."
He was suspicious and his face showed it. She laughed. "Yes, I'm worrying
again," she said. "I can now, you see. When we're married I shan't have
the power."
"You'll always have absolute power over me."
"Oh, I wish that was true!" she said. "No, I don't," came an instant
later. "If I thought that, I'd never speak to you again." Moving away a
little, she turned her head back towards him and went on, "Use it to pay
Dick Benyon. I'd rather you did that than gave me a thousand necklaces."
"Oh, Dick's in no hurry; he's got lots of money." Quisante was visibly
vexed this time. "Aren't you going to allow me to give you anything?" he
asked.
She had a struggle to win this time, and again had to call in the ally
she distrusted, an appeal to his vanity. She told him that it hurt her
idea, her great idea, of him, that he should be in any way under
obligations to or dependent on anybody.


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