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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"

He certainly seemed kinder than he used to be.
But, until to-day, he had never talked to her seriously.
How her heart leapt into her throat when he began, at once, in his quiet
soft voice,
"Well, Nina dear, tell me all about it. I know, so you needn't be
frightened. I know and I understand."
She flung a terrified glance around her, but Uncle Ivan was reading the
paper at the other end of the room, her brother-in-law was cutting up
little pieces of wood in his workshop, and Vera was in the kitchen.
"What do you mean?" she said in a whisper. "I don't understand."
"Yes, you do," he answered, smiling at her. "You know, Nina, you're in
love with the Englishman, and have been for a long time. Well, why not?
Don't be so frightened about it. It is quite time that you should be in
love with some one, and he's a fine strong young man--not over-blessed
with brains, but you can supply that part of it. No, I think it's a very
good match. I like it. Believe me, I'm your friend, Nina." He put his
hand on hers.
He looked so kind, she told me afterwards, that she felt as though she
had never known him before; her eyes were filled with tears, so
overwhelming a relief was it to find some one at last who sympathised
and understood and wanted her to succeed.


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