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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Captives"

His hot,
heavy hand pressed into Mrs. Maxse's flesh, and Mrs. Maxse,
terrified indeed, screamed.
He began to apologise, and in his agitation jerked Miss Purves' cup
of tea from the table on to the floor.
After that he realised that it would be better for him to go. He
began elaborate apologies. Paul saw him to the door. He gripped Paul
by the hand. "I'm delighted to have met you," he said in full
hearing of the trembling ladies. "You've given me such a good time.
Give my little Maggie a good time too. She's not looking over well.
Send her up to London to stay with me for a bit."
Maggie saw him to the gate. In the middle of the little drive he
stopped, turning towards her, leaning his hands heavily upon her.
"Maggie dear," he said, "I'm in a bad way, a very bad way. You won't
desert me?"
"Of course I won't," she answered. "I may want your help in a week
or two."
He looked dismally about him, at the thick, dull laurel bushes and
the heavy, grey sky. "I don't like this place, Maggie," he said,
"and all those women. It's religion again, and it's worse than that
Chapel. You don't seem to be able to get away from religion.


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