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Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May), 1881-1939

"The Way of an Eagle"

"I must go up now. Baby is restless to-night, and
may want me. Good-night."
Blake stooped, and carried her hand softly and suddenly to his lips.
He seemed for an instant on the verge of saying something, but no
words came. There was a faint, half-mocking smile on Daisy's face
as she turned away. But she was silent also. It seemed that they
understood each other.


CHAPTER XXIII
THE SLEEP CALLED DEATH

It was an unspeakable relief to Muriel that, in congratulating her
upon her engagement, Daisy made no reference to Nick. She did not know
that this forbearance had been dictated long before by Nick himself.
The days that followed her engagement had in them a sort of rapture
that she had never known before. She felt as a young wild creature
suddenly escaped from the iron jaws of a trap in which it had long
languished, and she rioted in the sense of liberty that was hers. Her
youth was coming back to her in leaps and bounds with the advancing
spring.
She missed nothing in Blake's courtship. His gentleness had always
attracted her, and the intimacy that had been growing up between them
made their intercourse always easy and pleasant. They never spoke of
Nick. But ever in Muriel's heart there lay the soothing knowledge that
she had nothing more to fear. Her terrible, single-handed contests
against overwhelming odds were over, and she was safe.


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