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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Captives"

How did you like it?"
"Like it?" said Maggie. "I don't know that it's a thing one likes,
exactly."
"Doesn't one? I don't know. I'm not one of the Inside Saints, you
know, and I wouldn't be if they wanted me to he. But you're one now,
they say, and I never would have thought it. You don't look a bit
like one, and I shouldn't have dreamt that you'd ever stand that
sort of thing. You look so matter-of-fact."
Maggie was on the point of bursting out that she was not an Inside
Saint, and would never be one, when caution restrained her. She had
learnt already that her gay young companion was not as trustworthy
as best friends ought to be.
"It was the first time, last night," she said.
"Yes, I know, and Miss Cardinal was ill and had to come away in the
middle, didn't she? It must have been a simply awful meeting,
because Mother came back as limp as anything. She'd been crying
buckets, and has a dreadful headache to-day. I suppose Mr. Crashaw
gave it them. I've never heard him, but I've seen him. Horrid old
monkey--I hope Miss Cardinal's better to-day."
"Yes, thank you," said Maggie. "She's better.


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