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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"


"You remember Maggie Finlay, Geoff, this morning, on the stairs?
She--she kissed me good-by, said she was goin' away; this is what she
meant--the river, Geoff! She's drowned herself, Geoff! Oh, my God!"
and letting fall the tarpaulin, Spike was shaken suddenly by fierce
hysterical sobbing; whereat the man, looking up from his writing, spoke
harsh-voiced.
"Aw, quit it, Kid, quit it! Here I've just wrote down three rings,
and she's only got one, an' that a cheap fake. Shut up, Kid, you'll
make me drop blots next! Cut it out, it ain't as if she was your
sister--" Hereupon Spike started and lifted a twitching face.
"My sister!" he repeated, "my sister--whatcher mean? My God, Chip,
Hermy could never--come to--that!" And shivering violently, Spike turned
and stumbled out of the shack. Once outside, Ravenslee set his long arm
about him and felt the lad still trembling violently.
"Why, Spike!" said he, "buck up, old fellow!"
"Oh, Geoff, Hermy could never--"
"No, no--of course not!" So very silently, together and side by side,
they crossed the narrow causeway.


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