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Oxenham, John, 1852-1941

"A Maid of the Silver Sea"

They shall not! They are wicked, crazy men," and the
little cloaked figure shook again with the spirit that was in it.
"Dear!" he said, putting his arm round her, and drawing her close. "You
must not stop. They must not know you have been here. I do not know what
the end will be. We are in God's hands, and we have done no wrong. But
if ... if the worst comes, you will remember all your life, dear, that
to one man you were as an angel from heaven. Nance! Nance! Oh, my dear,
how can I tell you all you are to me!"--and as he pressed her to him,
the bare white arms stole out of the cloak and clasped him tightly round
the neck.
"But how are you going to get back, little one? You cannot possibly swim
that Race again?" he asked presently, holding her still in his arms and
looking down at her anxiously.
"Yes, I can swim," she said valiantly. "I knew it would be worse than
usual, and I brought these"--and she slipped from his arms and groped on
the ground, and presently held up what felt to him in the darkness like
a pair of inflated bladders with a broad band between them.


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