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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Marietta A Maid of Venice"

One could see that."
Marietta could bear no more, now. She bent her head and bit her finger
to keep herself from crying out.
"If you will not be still, how in the world am I to plait your hair?"
asked Nella querulously.
"Do it quickly, please," Marietta succeeded in saying. "I am so very
tired to-night."
Her head bent still further forward.
"Indeed," said Nella, much annoyed that her tale should not have been
received with more interest, "you seem to be half asleep already."
But Nella was much too truly attached to her mistress not to feel some
anxiety when she saw her white face and noticed how uncertainly she
walked. Nella had her in bed at last, however, and gave her more of the
soothing drink, smoothed the cool pillow under her head, looked round
the room to see that all was in order before going away, then took the
lamp and at last went out.
"Good night, my pretty lady," said Nella cheerfully from the door, "good
rest and pleasant dreams!"
She was gone at last, and she would not come back before morning.
Marietta sat up in bed in the dark and pressed her hands to her temples
in utter despair.
"I shall go mad! I shall go mad!" she whispered to herself.
She remembered that she had left her light silk mantle in the
laboratory, on the great chair.


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