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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"Denzil Quarrier"

What a deplorable thing if that
possibility had been frustrated!"
Lilian murmured an assent. Silence followed, and she closed her
eyes. In a minute or two Mrs. Wade turned to look; the expression
which grew upon her face as she watched furtively was one of
subtlest malice. Of scorn, too. Had _she_ been in the position of
that feeble creature, how differently would she have encountered its
perils!
"Is your head any better?" she asked, just above her breath.
"It burns!--Feel my hand, how hot it is!"
"You are feverish. We have talked too much, I fear."
"No; I like to hear you talk. And it passes the time. Oh, I hope
Denzil won't be very late!"
There sounded a knock at the front door, a heavy rap such as would
be given by some rustic hand.
"What can that be?" Lilian exclaimed, raising herself.
"Nothing, dear--nothing. Some errand boy."
The servant was heard in the passage. She brought a letter, and said
a messenger waited for the reply. Mrs. Wade looked at the address;
the hand was unknown to her.
"From Denzil?" asked Lilian.
The other made no reply. What she found in the envelope was a note
from Northway, saying he was close by and wished to see her. After a
moment's hesitation she went to the door, where a boy was standing.
"Will you tell the person who gave you this note that he may come
here?"
Then she bade her servant put a light in the dining room, and
returned to Lilian.


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