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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Grey Cloak"

"
"All is fair in love and war. It came near being a good trick,--that
blank paper."
"Not quite so near as might be. It is true that I did not suspect your
ruse; but it is also true that I had but one idea and one intention, to
gain the paper."
"And supposing it had been real, genuine?"
"Why, then, I should have at least half of it, which would be the same
thing as having all of it." Contact with this man always put a
delicate edge to her wit and sense of defense. She could not deny a
particle of admiration for this strange man, who proceeded toward his
ends with the most intricate subterfuge, and who never drew a long
face, who accepted rebuffs with smiles and banter.
"You know, Madame, that whatever I have done or shall do is out of love
for you."
"I would you were out of love with me!"
"The quality of my love . . ."
"Ah, that is what disturbs me--the quality!" shrewdly.
"There is quality and quantity without end. I am not a lover who pines
and goes without his meals. Madame, observe me--I kneel. I tell you
that I adore you. Will you be my wife?"
"No, a thousand times no! I know you to be a brave man, Monsieur le
Vicomte; but who can put a finger on your fancy? To-day it is I;
to-morrow, elsewhere.


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