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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Definite Object A Romance of New York"


"Dear," she whispered, "what is it?"
"That tapping sound," he answered, still gazing upward.
"It's only the woodpecker."
"Why, of course!" he laughed. "It's strange, but I dreamed a scene like
this--yes, the great tree yonder, and you in my arms--though it seemed
so impossible then, and--"
But uttering a sudden, low cry of alarm, Hermione broke from his clasp
and fled from him along the leafy path while he stared after her, lost
in amazement; then he ran also and caught her upon the edge of the
little wood.
"What frightened you, Hermione--who was it?"
"I--I thought I saw some one crouching behind a bush--watching us!"
"Not--M'Ginnis?" he demanded, fierce-eyed.
"No--no, I'm sure it wasn't!"
"I'll go and look," said Ravenslee, clenching his fists. But now, as he
turned away, two round arms were about him again, soft and compelling,
and she was looking up at him, all shy-eyed, passionate tenderness; and
before the revelation in that look, he forgot all else in the world.
"Hermione--when will you marry me?"
Now, softened by distance, there floated to them the mellow booming of
a gong.


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