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Hawthorne, Julian, 1846-1934

"David Poindexter's Disappearance, and Other Tales"

Drayton
together--I almost thought--well, I didn't know what to think. You do
love me, don't you?"
For a few moments Mary Leithe sat quite motionless, save for a slight
tremor of the nerves that pervaded her whole body; and then, all at
once, she melted into sobs. Redmond could not imagine what was the
matter with her; but he put his arms round her, and after a little
hesitation or resistance, the girl hid her face upon his shoulder, and
wept for the secret that she would never tell.
But Mary Leithe's nature was not a stubborn one, and easily adapted
itself to the influences with which she was most closely in contact.
When she and Redmond presented themselves at Aunt Corwin's cottage that
evening her tears were dried, and only a tender dimness of the eyes and
a droop of her sweet mouth betrayed that she had shed any.
"Mr. Drayton wanted to be remembered to you, Mary," observed Aunt
Corwin, shortly before going to bed. She had been floating colored sea-
weeds on paper all the time since supper, and had scarcely spoken a
dozen words.
"Has he gone?" Mary asked.


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