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Locke, William John, 1863-1930

"Viviette"

"What the deuce have you got to
do with my affairs?"
"Everything. Do you think she loves you, cares for you, honours you,
respects you?"
Viviette faced him with blazing eyes.
"I do," she said defiantly.
"It's a lie," cried Dick. "It's you that are lying now. Heaven and
earth! I've suffered enough to-day--I thought I had been through
hell--but it's nothing to this. She loves me--do you hear
me?--me--me--me--and I can't marry her--and I don't care a damn who
knows the reason."
"Stop, man," said Austin.
"Let me be. She shall know the truth. Everyone shall know the truth. At
any rate, it will save her from this."
"I will do it quietly, later, Dick."
"Let me be, I tell you," said Dick, with great, clumsy, passionate
gesture. "Let's have no more lies." He turned to Viviette. "You wrote me
a letter. You said you loved me--would marry me--come out to
Vancouver--the words made me drunk with happiness--at first. You saw me.
I refused your love and your offer. I said I didn't love you. I lied. I
said I couldn't marry you.


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