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Oxenham, John, 1852-1941

"A Maid of the Silver Sea"

A
little hand slipped out of the cloak and took his in charge, and so they
went through the darkness of the narrow way.
He breathed more freely when the further slope was reached, and only
then became aware that the hand that held his was all of a tremble. The
next moment he perceived that she was sobbing quietly.
"Nance!" he cried. "What is it? You are crying. Is it anything I--"
"No, no, no!" sobbed the wounded soul convulsively.
"What then? Tell me!"
"I cannot. I cannot."
"Nance--dear!" and he sought her hand again and stood holding it firmly.
"It is like stabs in my heart to hear you sobbing. I would give my life
to save you from trouble. Do you believe me, dear?"
"Yes, yes--"
"And you can trust me, dear, can you not? You distrusted me at first, I
know, but--"
"Oh, I do trust you, and I know you are good. And it is that that makes
it so wicked of him to say such things about us--"
In her excitement she had let slip more than she intended. She stopped
abruptly.
"Tom?"
She did not speak, but the wound welled open in another sob.
"Don't trouble about him, dear! I don't know what he said, but if it was
meant to make you doubt me, it was not true.


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