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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

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I shall be with him right through. He'll want all the help I
can give him. It's everything to him to win this time."
"Yes, I know." Her voice had become troubled again; she was very anxious
for her husband's success; but was she anxious about something else too?
"If I can help you, let me," he said as he rose to go.
She gave him her hand and looked in his face.
"I'm afraid that most likely I shouldn't be able to ask you," she said
gravely. The answer, as she gave it, meant so much to him, and even
seemed to admit so much, that he wondered at once at her insight into
his thoughts and at her frankness in facing what she found there. For
did she not in truth mean that she might want help most on some occasion
when the loyalty he had himself approved would forbid her to reveal her
distress to him or to seek his succour? He ventured, after an instant's
hesitation, on one word.
"After all," he said, "you can't trundle the world's wheelbarrow in
white kid gloves; at least you soil them."
"Then why trundle it?" she asked. "At any rate you needn't say that sort
of thing.


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