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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Captives"

I'm a link in the
chain."
She went in and asked its price; not very much, considering the
splendour of the blue pot. She bought it. She was glad that 13A was
not far, because now the basket and the flower weighed heavily upon
her.
She climbed the stairs to Martin's room with beating heart. Suppose
he had returned and was there and would not let her in? Or suppose,
worse than that, that he had returned, packed his bag and gone away
again? Her heart was beating so terribly when at last she had
arrived outside the door that she had to put down the hyacinth and
the basket and stand for a minute there, panting.
She pushed back the door; the room was lit by the reflection from a
lamp in a window on the opposite side of the road; this flickered
with a pale uncertain glow across the floor. He was not here. She
opened the bedroom door. He had not packed his bag. She sighed with
relief. She found a bell and pressed it. To her great surprise the
scrubbing maid almost instantly presented herself; curiosity had
undoubtedly hastened her steps.
"What's your name?" asked Maggie, smiling.
"Emily," said the girl.


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