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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"Chance"


"Oh my God!" and watched him with frightened eyes. But he did not appear
insane or in any other way formidable. This comforted her. The silence
lasted for some little time. Then suddenly he asked:
"What's your name then?"
For a moment in the profound trouble of the task before her she did not
understand what the question meant. Then, her face faintly flushing, she
whispered: "Anthony."
Her father, a red spot on each cheek, leaned his head back wearily in the
corner of the cab.
"Anthony. What is he? Where did he spring from?"
"Papa, it was in the country, on a road--"
He groaned, "On a road," and closed his eyes.
"It's too long to explain to you now. We shall have lots of time. There
are things I could not tell you now. But some day. Some day. For now
nothing can part us. Nothing. We are safe as long as we live--nothing
can ever come between us."
"You are infatuated with the fellow," he remarked, without opening his
eyes. And she said: "I believe in him," in a low voice. "You and I must
believe in him."
"Who the devil is he?"
"He's the brother of the lady--you know Mrs.


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